Chapter 98: Union Conference (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 98: Union Conference (4)
Selaim Mikardo, the Blue Tower Master, had returned to the Magic Tower for the first time in quite a while—practically two years, to be precise. Originally, he had planned to head back out the very same day he arrived.
This was because, three years ago, he had discovered a truly fascinating magical structure.
It appeared to be a profound magical construct from the forgotten Age of Gods, one that might finally allow him to transcend the 8th Tier, where his progress had long been stalled.
As a result, Mikardo had been busily traversing the entire continent, excluding the Empire, which was currently inaccessible. His plan this time was simply to restock necessary supplies and depart once more.
"Tower Master, I have some interesting news."
"What kind of news would warrant such a tone?"
"It seems the Vice Tower Master has found someone she fancies."
"…Oh?"
He might have ignored it if the news hadn't come from one of the Blue Tower professors he was particularly close with.
"Tell me more."
The professor began to recount everything that had transpired.
"—And that’s how it happened."
"Ho…"
As soon as the professor finished the story, Selaim Mikardo nodded several times with a look of deep intrigue before asking in a questioning tone.
"But in the end, didn't you say Penia denied it until the very end?"
"That is true, but don't they say a strong denial is often a strong affirmation?"
"A strong denial is a strong affirmation, eh…"
Selaim stroked his beard, lost in thought.
If it’s Penia, I suppose that’s possible.
He involuntarily pictured Penia in his mind.
To be honest, even Selaim had to admit she was a cherished disciple and a genius. However, considering her arrogant, fierce personality and the subtle elitism she harbored—
It really did seem plausible.
Knowing Penia, she would likely dismiss such natural emotions as nothing more than a game where "the one who falls in love first loses."
"Indeed… if it’s Penia, that’s certainly possible."
"Right?"
"Yes."
Selaim nodded in agreement, recalling her tendency to refuse defeat at any cost, especially when it came to a competition.
Had Penia heard this conversation, she would have likely frothed at the mouth and unleashed a barrage of magic across the entire tower.
Unaware of this, Selaim pondered for a moment before speaking.
"Then, should I offer some assistance?"
"Well—that doesn't sound like a bad idea."
At the professor's words, Selaim began to hum in contemplation.
For a man who had cared for little else but magic his entire life, the idea of his "I am the center of the universe" disciple falling for someone was quite entertaining.
The person Penia admires… come to think of it, haven't they been involved for quite a while?
Selaim reached back for an old memory he had set aside during his magical research.
I recall he was the noble who solved the exam question… and Penia looked quite dejected back then, didn't she?
Recalling the memory he had completely shelved, Selaim, viewing the situation from the perspective of a middle-aged bystander, found the turn of events delightful.
"In that case, perhaps I’ll lend a hand in my own way. First—I should meet him myself."
He smiled, his mind made up.
Meanwhile.
Penia, unaware that the Tower Master had secretly returned, was in a different state.
"Again?!"
"Y-Yes."
"Again!? Another loss!? Again!?"
"No, well—I checked everything thoroughly, and I’m certain they were there when we departed!"
"I told you to check every single day!"
"Of course I did! But today, the day we arrived at the tower, they suddenly vanished…!"
"That doesn't even make sense!!!"
Her sanity was being ground into dust as the string of missing items entered its third month.
"Grrrgh—!"
Furious to her core, the image of a certain expressionless man flickered through her mind for no reason.
"Aaaaagh!"
Penia let out a scream of frustration.
…Outside the window, the weather remained mockingly clear.
* * *
Alon stood in a daze for a moment, bewildered by the sudden appearance of Seolrang and Deus.
"Hm? Oh—!"
Philian Merkillan, who had also been startled by their sudden arrival behind Alon, let out a shout as he realized who they were.
"Whoa, are you telling me this is the First Sword of Calliban and the first Babayaga of the Colony?"
Philian’s eyes sparkled with excitement, seemingly oblivious to the terrifyingly stiff expressions on Deus and Seolrang’s faces.
"I’ve wanted to meet you both. This is a pleasant surprise!"
A cheerful smile spread across his face.
However, when he saw that Deus and Seolrang remained stony-faced, he looked puzzled.
"What’s wrong?"
Deus, who had been silent until now, finally spoke.
"Benefactor—no, Marquis Palatio. Did you not say he was weak?"
"Uh, I did?"
"Marquis Palatio is not weak."
"Is that so?"
Philian glanced briefly at Alon before turning back.
"He looks weak to me, though?"
"…Do you wish to die?"
In an instant, Deus unleashed a murderous aura.
Wait, this much?
It was Alon, rather than Philian, who was taken aback by the intense reaction.
Being called weak certainly wasn't pleasant, but it wasn't something to unleash such blatant hostility over.
"Now, let's not go that far—"
Alon tried to de-escalate the situation, but Philian cut him off.
"Not at all. I’ve actually wanted to spar with the First Sword of Calliban. Would that be possible? If Sir Deus wins, I’ll gracefully accept that Marquis Palatio is strong."
"Fine."
Before Alon could even finish his sentence, the two of them began walking toward the exit of the banquet hall in unison.
"…."
It all happened in the blink of an eye.
* * *
A duel to defend Alon’s honor—one in which his own will played absolutely no part—was set.
As Alon walked toward the training grounds, a swaying tail followed beside him.
"…As an aide?"
"Yep! I wasn't going to come, but I heard the Mentor was coming, so I decided to join!"
Seolrang beamed at him, her expression practically screaming, Didn't I do a good job?
Alon nodded to himself after hearing why Seolrang and Deus were there.
It made sense for the two of them to attend this conference.
After all, Deus was the First Sword of Calliban.
And Seolrang was the first Babayaga of the desert city, Colony.
However, one thing bothered him.
…Is it really okay to cause a scene like this?
He looked at Deus and Philian standing ahead of them.
…Of course, since there were few people around and the banquet hall itself was quiet, it wasn't actually "noisy."
Regardless of whether people were watching, a duel between aides could still cause a stir, so he had initially intended to stop them.
Unfortunately, while he was busy responding to Seolrang, the two had already drawn their swords, signaling that their preparations were complete.
Regrettably, the window to intervene had closed.
Therefore.
…Well, it’s a pure duel, so it shouldn't cause too much of a commotion.
Alon decided to simply watch the fight, though a new thought occurred to him.
I wonder who will win.
No, he quickly rephrased the question.
I wonder how long he’ll last.
He knew both were Sword Masters, but the outcome seemed certain.
Even among Sword Masters, there were tiers, and he couldn't imagine Philian, who had only recently reached that level, defeating Deus—the man who had bested even Reinhardt.
The other side probably doesn't expect to win either… oh, wait, does he?
Philian was staring at Deus with eyes full of competitive fire and battle lust.
Seeing that, Alon nodded to himself.
Philian was exactly as he had been in Psychedelia.
Even against an overwhelming difference in skill, he was the type who would never give up, fighting until his last breath to find a way to win.
It was one thing in the game, but seeing it in reality, he really does have a unique personality.
With that assessment, Alon watched Philian, whose eyes were glowing with intensity.
"The rule is until one side admits defeat. Now then, the duel begins when this dagger I throw hits the ground."
With a smile, Philian tossed a dagger from his waist into the air.
The dagger soared high, catching the light of the setting sun on its hilt before plummeting back down.
And then.
Thud!
The moment the hilt struck the dirt.
Crack!
The match was over.
"Huh?"
Philian looked bewildered as he tried to process his situation.
When he came to his senses, he was sprawled unsightly on the ground.
He didn't even know what had happened.
As he regained his focus and looked ahead—
"…."
There stood Deus Macallian, looking down at him with his sword in hand.
His eyes filled with confusion, Philian soon realized one fact along with the pain blooming in his cheek.
He had lost.
And he had done so without even swinging his sword once.
He hadn't even been able to lift a finger.
"Ha…."
Realizing this, Philian let out a hollow laugh.
If it had been anyone else, they likely would have crumbled the moment they lost to Deus or denied reality.
Those who crumbled would feel powerless that the swordsmanship they had built up was so easily defeated.
Those who denied it would deify Deus Macallian and rationalize their defeat as inevitable.
They had to, or they would break.
But.
"Ha… Hahaha."
Philian chose a third option, neither crumbling nor denying.
And that was—
"Wow, seriously… I’m speechless."
Fighting spirit.
Despite realizing it was only a single strike and that he was completely outmatched, Philian’s fighting spirit flared even brighter as he raised his sword.
As Philian’s blood began to boil—
…What was that?
Alon looked at Deus with a look of immense surprise.
He knew Deus was strong. He knew he had defeated Reinhardt.
Even so, he hadn't imagined Deus could dispatch Philian—who was surely stronger than most Sword Masters—in a single heartbeat.
…Is this what talent looks like?
He marveled at how Deus had become impossibly strong in just a few years, seemingly transcending the level of a superhuman. But soon, a sense of pride washed over him.
…To be honest, from Alon’s perspective—someone who struggled to cast a single spell—he was envious of that overwhelming talent. On the other hand, he felt like a father watching his son achieve greatness.
However, that feeling was short-lived.
Alon soon found himself impressed by Philian as well.
"Guh—!"
Despite having fought and lost to a single strike more than five times already, Philian continued to stand up as if he didn't know the meaning of surrender.
By the time they had fought five times.
"Not yet!"
Alon could see the vivid fire of fighting spirit in Philian’s eyes.
By the time they had fought ten more times.
"Still—!"
By the time they had fought fifteen more times.
"Wow, you’re really stro—"
By the time they had fought twenty more times.
"Wait, hold on a second?"
Philian raised his hand for the first time, but—
Deus sent him flying without a word.
"No—"
Crack!
"Wait—"
Thud!
"Let me just say—"
Crack!
By the time they had fought about thirty more times, without Philian being given a chance to speak—
"…Deus, I think that’s enough."
"Yes."
…Or more accurately, by the time Alon realized Philian’s fighting spirit had faded and the duel had devolved into a one-sided beating, he hurriedly intervened.
Alon saw it then.
"…."
According to the game’s settings, Philian was supposed to show indomitable spirit and never give up until his last breath, no matter the skill gap.
"IamsorryIwasrashIwon'tdoitagain—"
He was broken.
* * *
That night.
At the conference where the six kings representing the United Kingdoms gathered.
"…Where did that brilliant Sword Master of yours go? You were bragging about him so much."
"…Ahem."
Alon witnessed King Shuhtalian V of Ashtalon scowling with extreme displeasure behind Cretenia Siyan.
"…."
The moment their eyes met, Alon had no choice but to quietly look away.