Chapter 203
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 203
Chapter Title: Isn't It Boring?
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Even though the fog in London had completely cleared, the mirror world within still lay shrouded in a thick haze.
Peering into the crystal orb alongside Syr there, Yuna Kyung was now exerting every ounce of effort into being utterly baffled.
[That Magic Lord geezer shows up here of all places while London's a total warzone?! And he straight-up blasts an attack skill too?!]
To be honest, it was pretty bizarre.
At first, Carl had swept away hundreds of shadow monsters in one go with a powerful skill, only to vanish without a trace right after.
So everyone was wondering where the heck he'd gone and what he was up to.
And then, out of nowhere, he pops up here with a face full of fury, floating in the sky. It was enough to leave anyone speechless.
But Syr took it all in stride, cool as ever.
"Who knows. From the way he's talking, he probably suspects us witches are the ones who cooked up this whole mess."
[Does that even make sense?!]
"It's not like it's completely impossible. We are prepping something on the sidelines, after all."
[You should deny it first and foremost! Why go and say something that just fuels suspicion?!]
Yuna Kyung was flabbergasted.
Syr chuckled at her.
"Because it's fun. Normally, this smug jerk acts all high and mighty, pretending to know everything. Watching him play the fool like this is hilarious."
[Witch sis, your personality is seriously next-level!!!]
"I'm not a witch for nothing, sweetie."
Was it Syr's casual chit-chat with Yuna Kyung that stoked his rage even more?
Carl bellowed, his beard quivering with fury.
"Don't play dumb, witch! You think I wouldn't notice you lot assaulting London with those monsters while prepping some evil ritual here?!"
[Wait, that's not it! We are prepping magic, sure, but those monsters...]
"Shut your trap, you foul witch familiar!"
[Eek! Calling a cute, adorable little bluebird like me a foul familiar?!]
Whether Yuna Kyung protested indignantly or not, Carl refused to let up.
"No excuses! Stop the assault and halt the ritual right now! Or I won't hold back!"
"My, what a scary tale."
Syr spoke as if troubled.
But that was just words. The eyes she fixed on Carl brimmed with cold mockery and disdain.
Having lived longer than even Rimon, she could tell.
No matter what she said here, it wouldn't get through to Carl, who was dead certain the witches were behind it all.
Because the fire in his eyes was pure conviction and grudge.
The exact same gaze as those apostles of justice from ages past, who burned witches at the stake and rejoiced at vanquishing evil.
And above all, there was one more reason that let Syr reach a simple conclusion without a second thought.
"But what can we do? This is the work of a kid even scarier than a jerk like you, so I can't exactly follow your orders."
Fireball (Fire Orb)
Kaboom!
As if she hadn't expected anything anyway, Syr didn't flinch as Carl swung his staff without hesitation.
The massive fireball he unleashed made it seem like the entire house where Syr perched on the roof would be obliterated.
But Carl's face twisted in that instant.
Right after a crack appeared on the crystal orb Syr had been gazing into.
The house that had shattered and burned to pieces cracked like a mirror, revealing Syr unharmed atop the intact roof beyond.
"Attacking a lady without warning? How utterly rude."
"A witch like you deserves no such courtesy!"
As if nothing had happened.
Carl, even more incensed by Syr's nonchalant critique of his manners, swung his staff again.
At the same time, a barrage of skills materialized around him.
Lightning Bolt, Freezing Killer, Rock Down, Blade Storm, etc.
[Barrage of high-powered skills]
Under the relentless assault of devastating skills, Syr's form repeatedly shattered like glass before reforming intact.
Each time, cracks multiplied on the crystal orb until it finally shattered completely.
And just as a massive boulder plummeted toward the now-corporeal Syr...
Syr pulled out a silver crab-shaped figurine and dropped it lightly, murmuring softly.
"Toaka auM."
⟨ Crab House ⟩
Thud!
With the short incantation, the figurine sank into the roof, and suddenly legs sprouted from the house, sidestepping the boulder with a crab-like scuttle.
But the transformation didn't stop there.
The two chimneys towering on the roof morphed into claws that shot toward Carl.
And from those gaping claws fired giant clams.
Ridiculous as they looked, these 200-kilogram behemoths, encased in rock-hard shells, hurtled toward Carl with jaws wide open.
Unfortunately, they slammed into Carl's 『Flame Shield』 and plummeted as grilled calamari.
Flame Shield
The crab house didn't give up, firing off more giant clams as if it had an endless supply.
It was all in vain.
Carl wove fire, ice, and lightning seamlessly for offense and defense. Nothing could touch him.
As the clams were roasted, frozen, and zapped into shellfish cuisine, the crab house crumbled under counterattacks.
Yet Syr, perched calmly on its roof, showed no sign of agitation.
She simply drew a porcelain vial from her bosom, scattered its gemstone powder into the air, and chanted briefly.
"Suriya Vir ZKazak."
⟨ Sweet Storm Barrier ⟩
Fwoosh!
In that moment.
A sweet storm exploded in the air.
Flames turned to chocolate, chill to ice cream, rocks to bread, lightning to sugar cookies.
A myriad of bubbles transformed everything they touched—tangible or not—into confections, forming an impenetrable shield.
Witnessing it, Carl roared in fury.
"What kind of nonsense is this?!"
"Hmm, looks like child's play to you?"
"If it's not play, then some ploy to mock me?!"
Carl snapped, indignant.
And understandably so. From the scampering crab house to the candy-making bubbles...
No matter how you sliced it, Syr's magic lacked any trace of seriousness or gravity.
Under normal circumstances, maybe. But for Carl, here to defend London in a desperate battle, it was infuriating.
Gazing steadily at him, Syr let out a soft scoff.
"That's exactly what I want to ask."
"What?!"
"Listen up, you jerk. Why can't you use those impressive skills of yours in any creative way?"
"...Any 'creative' way?"
"I mean that boring, one-note style, all wrapped up in nothing but efficiency for killing and destruction."
"You're calling my skills boring?!"
"Obviously."
As if beholding something utterly pathetic.
With pitying eyes, Syr drawled on lazily.
"Magic is the cheat code gods granted to humanity. A way to cheat the laws of the world, a forbidden art that lets mere mortals surpass even divinities."
In the dim, distant past.
At the dawn of the Silver Age, when gods had only just descended upon the world.
Humanity was so foolish and frail that survival without gods or spirits was impossible.
Thus, the gods spread agriculture, medicine, and myriad technologies to prosper mankind, and taught ways to bend natural laws.
That was magic.
The arcane mimicry of divine power, permitted to pitiful humans by the gods—the proxies of those laws.
Hence, magic was theoretically capable of anything.
"So why, as the vaunted Magic Lord, do you waste that power fighting like some primitive savage?"
If there's a fight?
Call in the Seven Dragon Society elites.
Need to slay a god?
Ask a Sword Master.
Those seventy-two martial styles and sword arts were made for self-defense and combat, after all.
But witches and priests had no such need.
They turned the impossible possible with magic, solving any problem without lifting a finger to fight.
Thus, before religious wars intensified in the Silver Age, most witches and priests worked as scholars, researchers, pharmacists, or artists.
And as one such ancient witch, Syr shared her take on Carl's skills.
"No fun to watch at all."
Turning country girls into princesses.
Swapping bratty kids into frogs.
Forcing kings to streak through streets naked.
Power that could be used for so much more 'fun,' wasted on mere brawls? Like using books or toys to bludgeon someone to death.
Syr said it plainly.
"Fun...? Fun?!"
Whatever part of that struck a nerve, Carl's beard quivered briefly.
Then he burst into hearty laughter.
"Hah hah ha. True, to witches with thousands of years of history, my skills might seem dull."
The Iron Age had only been open three decades.
To Carl, who had formalized magic theory, creating countless spells from 1st to 9th class, it was an outrageous insult.
Yet he didn't rage.
No, with icy eyes fixed on Syr, he continued coldly.
"But that doesn't change the fact your petty tricks can't beat me."
As if to prove it.
Carl gripped his staff horizontally with both hands.
Unlike his earlier frenzied barrages, he emanated chilling killing intent and intoned lowly.
Spell Rank Up, Magic Power Storage, Fire of Inferno
Kwaaaaang!
In that instant, pitch-black flames erupted from Carl's staff.
The massive pillar of flame burned through the fog, engulfing the crab house where Syr sat whole cloth.
The heat was so ferocious.
The crab house firing clams was half-destroyed by the shockwave alone, and the bubble shield around Syr burst at terrifying speed.
Of course, the flames touching the bubbles turned to chocolate too—but only partially.
The inferno melted even that chocolate like lava, swiftly closing in on Syr.
"Hmm... True, head-on, I can't beat you with my power alone."
Gazing at the flames poised to reduce her to ash, Syr readily admitted her limits.
A lord was this era's absolute pinnacle.
Though she'd dismissed his skills as good for nothing but combat, that very focus made them devastating.
Even Syr, a witch of over a millennium, could only hold out one-on-one.
And magic's costly nature meant she'd lose any prolonged fight.
But Syr wasn't worried.
She just flashed a cryptic smile and spoke casually.
"But what if it's not just me?"
As Carl's brow furrowed at the cryptic words...
Seventy-Two Martial Flows: Three Ultimate Techniques
Heavenly Water Cleave
[Sharp waves rend the air]
Shraaa!
Sharp waves sliced the air.
The massive flame pillar encircling and squeezing Syr split cleanly in two.
And as a uniformed woman landed lightly between him and Syr, Carl's face twisted involuntarily.
"...Countess Rose!"