Chapter 71: Is This Really Okay…? (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 71: Is This Really Okay…? (4)
A bitter cold swept through the arena, and blue sparks began to crackle and flow through the air.
To any observer, it was an extraordinary display of mana manipulation.
“Decomposition.”
At Alon’s word, the erupting sparks shattered into dust, becoming glowing blue grains that scattered in every direction.
Despite it being the middle of the day, the particles shone as vividly as fireflies.
And then.
“Melting.”
His body, which had been perfectly stable just a moment ago, began to waver unsteadily as if he were a mirage, even though he was standing perfectly still.
“!”
Phision was already within arm’s reach of Alon.
Having leaped forward using crimson flames hot enough to incinerate everything as his propellant, he gripped his downward-slanted sword while staring at Alon’s flickering form.
‘It’s different from what I expected, but I’m still fine!’
It was true he was flustered that Alon was using magic completely different from the ice spells he had anticipated, but he chose to see this situation as an opportunity instead.
At the very least, his opponent was defenseless while preparing the spell.
‘It would have been better to finish him after a flashy fight, but—’
His chances of winning would drop exponentially the moment Alon successfully cast a different spell.
‘—I’ll end this now.’
Just as Phision swung his sword upward without hesitation.
“All Things in Flux.”
Alon spoke.
In that split second.
Alon’s face, looking back at him with total indifference.
His body, already forming a seal with his index and middle fingers raised.
Cr-crackle—!!!!
“Thunder God Form.”
He became blue lightning itself.
And Phision’s thoughts went no further.
* * *
BOOM—!!
With a sound like an exploding shell, Phision’s body was slammed into the arena floor, and a bolt of lightning streaked across the stadium, leaving an afterimage in its wake.
Cr-cr-crack—!!
A single second, or perhaps an even shorter instant.
In that moment, which passed so quickly it was impossible to tell what had happened, the audience witnessed two things.
One was Phision’s body smashed into the arena wall, which had crumbled upon impact.
The other was...
Crackle—!
Alon, draped in lightning—
No, Alon’s entire body was shrouded in a blue radiance, as if he had become lightning itself.
Zap!
Every time his ink-black coat fluttered, sparks crackled and leaped in all directions.
Sss—
Then, starting from the hem of his coat, the ink-black color slowly began to return.
Soon.
Zzzzzzz—
““......””
The audience watched as he shifted back from the form of lightning into the shape of Count Palatio himself, like a fading gradient.
[T-The winner is—Alon Palatio!!]
When the commentator, who had been staring blankly with a lost expression, finally spoke,
—■■■■■■■■!!!
The crowd erupted in a thunderous roar, rising from their seats and applauding so hard the stadium shook.
As Alon stood there, bathed in the ecstatic noise and frantic applause.
‘Crazy—’
He didn't even have the chance to listen to the crowd; he cursed under his breath, his brow furrowing at the blood that began to trickle down from beneath his sleeve.
‘I almost died.’
It wasn't a metaphor.
He had truly come close to dying just now by using that magic.
It was true that his mana was completely depleted, but it wasn't mana exhaustion that had nearly killed him.
The reason lay in the magic he had just used—
‘Damn it—’
—No, it lay in the Sentence itself.
Unlike before, Alon understood the Law of the Sentence the moment he used it.
Actually, he had no choice but to understand it.
If he hadn't, he wouldn't be standing here; the moment the spell ended, he might have been decomposed at a molecular level and erased from this world.
‘Distorting the Laws to substitute the physical body with mana... Why does such insane magic even exist?’
The ‘Array of Thunder’ he used literally substituted his flesh with mana possessing the properties of lightning.
The subsequent Phrases were the process of melting—that is, enchanting—the lightning magic he had prepared in advance.
And the final ‘Thunder God Form’ was the magic that manifested that fused mana array.
In other words, the Self-Embodiment Sparrow had taught him was a magnificent spell that literally turned the caster into lightning itself.
Yet, the reason Alon felt the magic was insane was none other than its difficulty.
Ultimately, ‘Thunder God Form’ was a spell that temporarily turned the body into lightning to utilize its properties.
The problem, however, was that the irregular mana array of lightning merged with Alon’s body, meaning that even a slight movement of his physical form would cause the original array to collapse.
In other words, if Alon hadn't possessed a talent for controlling mana arrays, he could have vanished after lighting up the arena like the gunpowder of a flashy firework.
‘...It hurts like hell.’
Even though he had stopped for over a second to frantically reconstruct his body’s array, he must have missed something, as he could feel the amount of blood flowing under his sleeve increasing.
‘Sparrow, did you teach me this just to screw with me?’
He suddenly thought of Sparrow’s staff, which Evan would be holding while watching the match.
‘Let’s head back for now.’
Leaving the thunderous cheers behind, Alon returned to the waiting room.
“My Lord...”
“What is it?”
“No... it’s just that I don’t think anything you show me now will surprise me anymore.”
Evan spoke while looking at him with a strange expression.
[H-How... how on earth did you do that?]
And Sparrow’s staff, which had done nothing but sneer, now trembled as it spoke in disbelief. Hearing this, Alon felt a sense of satisfaction behind his expressionless face.
“It seems I’ve won the bet.”
* * *
One day later.
Alon’s reputation as a man who became an A-rank fighter in less than a week spread rapidly throughout the Colony.
Thanks to this, talk of Alon dominated the Colony more than any other fighter.
However, the subject of those rumors himself...
“We’re at the royal castle now, Mentor!”
...was quietly heading toward the Colony’s royal castle with Seolrang.
The reason was that, as an A-rank fighter, he had gained the right to enter the royal treasury.
‘Normally, it would have taken at least a week before I was allowed into the treasury.’
The reason Alon was able to move so quickly was entirely thanks to Seolrang.
‘I knew Babayaga’s power was great, but I didn't expect her to have influence even over the royal family.’
Alon was marveling at Seolrang’s abilities once again when his carriage passed through the massive castle walls.
[Hey,]
Sparrow spoke directly into his mind.
Instead of answering out loud, Alon responded by connecting his mana to the staff, just as he had been taught.
‘Have you forgotten our bet?’
[Ugh—!]
Sparrow recoiled in intense disgust. However—
[...Excuse me, Count. There is something I would like to ask you.]
Soon, the staff spoke with a slight tremble, using extremely polite and refined honorifics—a complete departure from a few days ago.
“What is it?”
[Well, as I mentioned yesterday, would you be interested in forming a contract with me and becoming my successor?]
“As I said yesterday, I’m still thinking about it.”
[No! I’m telling you, this is a really great opportunity!]
“Hmm.”
[...Please!?]
Sparrow added the polite ending belatedly, sounding frustrated.
[As you know from using it yourself, my Law is incredibly powerful. If you just refine it over generations, you’ll be able to slap other Magi across the face thirty times over! Seriously—!]
From the moment Alon used his Law without even inheriting his Heart Image, Sparrow had been pestering him to become his successor, just as the Dragonkin had suggested.
‘A successor—’
From Alon’s perspective, needing to learn magic, taking this staff as a teacher wasn't a bad choice.
Just knowing the Phrases and the Sentence suggested the staff possessed a vast amount of magical knowledge.
The reason Alon didn't give a definitive answer, however, was the contract Sparrow wanted to make.
Sparrow called it a Priestly Contract, but Alon saw no reason to enter an unknown contract that required drawing a magic circle.
‘I’m going to meet him tomorrow anyway, so it won't be too late to decide after asking then.’
Alon brushed off Sparrow’s words with that thought.
[Please, just think about it seriously one more time...!]
“Hmm. According to what you said before, isn't it impossible for me to be your successor since I haven't received your Heart Image?”
[No, I told you I said that because I really didn't know! I’m sorry, okay!]
“There’s no need to be sorry. I probably would have struggled to be your successor anyway since I’m so ‘stupid.’”
[...You really hold a grudge, don't you...]
“What was that?”
[A-Ah, no—I mean—]
Sparrow, forced to use polite language as the price for losing the bet, desperately tried to convince Alon to be his successor until Alon left the staff in the carriage to enter the royal castle.
...However, all Sparrow managed to gain by then was the realization that Alon’s grudges ran deeper than he thought.
[...Sigh. I shouldn't have lost my temper—]
Left alone in the carriage, Sparrow muttered to himself.
...It was his own karma.
* * *
The Colony’s royal castle gave off a slightly different atmosphere than the royal castles of other nations Alon knew.
Unlike the typical royal castle one might imagine, the atmosphere inside felt very rugged.
There were no notable sculptures or marble inside the castle; in a way, it almost looked neglected.
Yet, the reason Alon didn't think it was ‘low quality’ was...
“......”
...because of the sheer amount of gold and jewels hanging on those rugged walls.
Walking past an endless trail of treasures, Alon eventually arrived at the King’s audience chamber with Seolrang.
He soon knelt and offered his greetings to the King of the Colony, who was looking down at him.
“A fighter greets the King of the Colony.”
Normally, it would be proper to introduce himself as a noble, but since he was here to enter the treasury, he introduced himself as a fighter.
“Raise your head.”
At the dignified voice, Alon raised his head and saw the King’s face.
He was a boisterous middle-aged man with sharp features; one could see the King’s authority and confidence at a glance.
“Count Palatio, I watched your match with great interest. It was magnificent!”
Karmakeses III, the King of the Colony, laughed heartily and continued.
“I heard you wish to enter the treasury. I assume there is something you want?”
“That is correct.”
Karmakeses nodded a few times.
“Then you shall have it. The Colony’s royal family opens the treasury to anyone who has proven themselves.”
“Thank you for your consideration.”
“However, I was thinking of giving you one more gift. What do you think?”
“...A proposal, you mean?”
“Indeed.”
He spoke as if it were nothing.
“I have a daughter.”
“Yes.”
“What do you think?”
“...Pardon?”
Alon’s thoughts ground to a halt.
Silence.
But it only lasted a moment.
“Well—receiving this gift is entirely up to you, so take your time and think it over.”
Karmakeses didn't lose his smile.
“Maksim, escort him to the treasury.”
He gave the order to the Guardian Knight standing beside him.
As Karmakeses watched Alon’s receding back, he let out a sigh.
“...Hm? Babayaga, are you not following him?”
He asked, realizing that Seolrang, who had been stuck to Alon’s side until a moment ago, was still standing right there.
And then.
“Hey.”
He saw that Seolrang’s expression, which had been smiling brightly just a moment ago, was now frozen in a cold, expressionless mask.
Then.
“Know your place.”
With a flash of her terrifying golden eyes, those chilling words fell.