Leap 2
In his previous life, Licht had no interest in space magic. He simply found blink spells, which merely closed distances, annoying and finicky. He had no intention of learning them. To the Licht of that time, circle magic was nothing more than a substitute for aura—nothing more, nothing less.
Now.
If I can just see it properly.
He recalled the space magic wielded by 7th Circle archmages. A blink cast without the slightest delay was a versatile spell, perfect for escape or striking an opening. Even against most grand 7th Circle rituals, its mana drain was staggering.
Back then, I didn't know.
Interest ignited.
The current Licht was different from his past self. As he delved into magic, he shed his lingering stubbornness. Just like the sword, he could grasp magic's essence at a glance—so a few looks would let him seize it quickly. He was half certain. It was pure instinct.
"Too many people around, huh."
"Yeah? I didn't call 'em. They swarmed on their own."
The vast arena nestled within Barte's Mage Tower faction. Schult Markersy jabbed back with a playful grin.
A sprawling open plot between the towers drew every passing faction member's gaze perfectly. Being outdoors rather than enclosed made it ideal—and soon, the surroundings brimmed with onlookers.
"Isn't that Elder Schult?"
"The guy opposite... definitely..."
"Licht Sientia. Facing off like that—sparring?"
"Sword at his hip?"
"He wields it well too, so no surprise."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd, swelling into uproar.
Aila, dragged along unwittingly, gawked at the arena in disbelief from the sidelines.
Licht asked, "Did we need to come here of all places?"
"Widest spot around. If it's too much for you, my tower's basement training room works fine."
Doing this on purpose? The sly tone grated. Yet Licht held his tongue.
"Doesn't matter. Here it is."
"Hm, truly fine?"
Licht nodded faintly at Schult's query. He had no clue on the basement room's size, but it likely paled next to this central arena.
He'd planned to quietly appraise some spells and slip away last.
No matter.
What did others' chatter signify? Licht never fussed over such noise.
"Good, then."
Crackle!
Schult thrust a hand into empty air. Space rent open above it. From the fissure emerged that massive staff he'd glimpsed once before. Mana pulsing from its tip's magic stone was anything but ordinary.
"Espa?"
"You're for real?"
"It's just a spar..."
Schult gripped the staff and thudded it earthward. Gasps burst from all sides.
They name their staves too.
A 7th Circle mage's tool would be exceptional, naturally. The fuss made sense.
Staff in hand, Schult eyed Licht. "Not doubting you, but... proper instruction might serve better?"
"One spar suffices."
"Arrogant. That's why I like you."
Schult smirked.
Space magic wasn't grasped in one peek. A near-miracle reserved for 7th Circle archmages. Beyond its voracious mana toll, it demanded esoteric knowledge and insight.
Hence Schult's intent to teach deliberately, over time. Half measures yielded zilch.
So when Licht first proposed a spar, disbelief drew a hollow laugh. One glance enough? Arrogance bordering on absurdity.
But...
His view shifted, inch by inch.
New to magic, yet this prowess. No equating him with pretender "geniuses."
Grasping space magic at a glance—truly impossible?
No.
Schult had witnessed too much from the boy to declare it flatly.
"I'll stick to below 5th Circle. Space magic aside."
"Understood."
"And that ring."
Schult's gaze flicked to Licht's left hand.
"Wear it. Can't promise restraint."
"......"
Licht stood motionless, gazing at his left hand. The ring he'd nearly slipped off snagged his middle finger.
"Artifact from the Elder Council Chairman himself. From the Count?"
Licht affirmed wordlessly.
7-level mana glove. He'd meant to remove it upon the below-5th limit.
Yet Schult urged it on. No half-hearted spar, then.
I'll lose anyway.
Not here to win. Here to learn.
Toppling a 7th Circle veteran needed more time.
Licht compliantly reseated the ring on his left middle finger. A whisper of mana lit white glow over the gem, then faded.
He looked up to Schult awaiting him.
Familiar motion placed his right hand atop the Ascension Sword's hilt.
"Set?"
"Yes."
"Yielding first strike."
"Unnecessary."
In true battle, he'd have drawn and lunged as one. Mana-forged flesh plus Tempest acceleration closed on mages before they blinked.
Seeing matters most.
But no such intent. Goal: witness Schult's spells. A 7th Circle master manifested sub-5th Circle feats on pure will, chantless.
"Then..."
Schult grinned, raising the staff lightly before thudding ground anew.
Thump.
Mana bloomed wide. Compacted earth lumps erupted skyward.
Licht ducked low and charged.
Mana-clad body, wind-shrouded, propelled his soles. Amid ferocious sprint, thought struck:
Speed decides it.
Casting paces akin. Power the crux.
Even identical 5th Circle varied by caster.
Licht's skewed toward velocity, power trimmed.
Schult differed. Potency-amplified 5th Circles, hurled chantless from 7th Circle heights.
Head-on clash? Futile.
Still.
Sword available. Enough.
Magic demoted to aid.
Fourth stride: formless gale assailed.
Ascension Sword aloft, white streams coiled the golden edge.
Sching!
Cleaved the wind outright.
"Fun! Try this!"
Schult leveled staff at Licht. Mana surged; tip-stone blazed blinding.
Dual chant.
Crimson streak thundered post-wind-slice.
Kwaaaa—!
Scarlet beam bisected arena core.
Schult's faint smile; crowd's sighs.
Un dodgeable. Reinforced frame and haste made mid-path deviation hellish.
Wind blade bait. True: annihilation spell.
Block second? Third queued.
Yet boy's aura lingered.
As expected.
Staff whipped sideways fierce.
Dust-piercing silhouette. Annihilation grazed unscathed. Nay—sword-channeled mana twisted deflection.
Then.
Staff quivered. Ground flash-froze; frontal blaze-spear rocketed.
Plain flames? Power aberrant, leagues beyond.
No frontal tanking.
Hit seals it.
Licht knew. Ring soaked shocks, but spar's point?
Ducked, sword oblique. Flame grazed mana-white, veered.
Twice. Thrice. Four. Fifth parried, stomped earth savage.
Path-blocking ice? Feeble versus charge.
Kagagagak!
Incandescent white blade arced Schult low-to-high.
Pre-contact: rebound shove; azure cascade traced sword-line.
Shield.
Layered manifold. Single? Shredded.
"Hm... swifter than reckoned. That blow strip my wards?"
Schult spoke. Breath-mingling nearness.
Licht's thrust rebuffed; staff thrust chestward.
Stone flared anew.
"Late."
Staff-tip: cataclysmic shockwave.
Kwaang!
Air warped; Licht hurled back.
Left ring's white burst devoured blast, air-melted.
All under seconds.
"......"
Onlookers muted.
Exchange too elite. Few eyes captured it.
Licht inwardly quelled ire.
Still short...
Too frail. Reactions his edge. Yet grazed—blade shy of Schult.
5th versus 7th core mismatch.
Sub-5th leash? Still.
5th mage spell to 7th archmage's: chasmic, kin notwithstanding.
Bout parity? Near-miracle.
Licht scowled regardless.
Schult chortled.
"You keep astonishing me."
"......"
"Lacking yet. Not quitting here?"
Schult's rear: elementals bloomed pairwise. Moments: hundreds menaced Licht.
"Space magic, see."
Staff hoisted.
Spells cascaded. Hundreds plummeted unison. Lone mark.
Licht mid-swing to bisect: eyes bulged.
Space magic.
Ground-bound spells winked out sequential.
Sword clove void; Licht traced ghosts.
Kwaang!
Stealth birth point-blank: elementals detonated.
Roaring blasts; void-leapt spells vaulted gaps, erupted frontal.
Not wholesale vanish.
Licht sworded droppers, snaked blast-maze.
Unforeseeable.
Hundreds: which blink, whence surge? Blind.
Ignore skies? Overwhelm.
No play.
Choice coerced. Licht choice-less.
Sense-snagged mana wisps: blaze-wind pops patent.
Flow?
Mind flash-cleared.
Insight thundered cortex.
Mana broadcast. Senses maxed. Body-feel, eye-blind.
Pre-thought: motion; swing-over spell halved, voided.
"Huh...!"
Schult gasped—glee or void?
Licht brief halt, then diced sky-rains and flank-bursts, ingress relentless.
Staff frontal-aim synced spell-resurgence at boy.
Untouched.
Cleave-remnants: white pyre-consumed.
Gap nulled.
Flash!
Golden edge sundered Schult's late station.
Schult? Long blinked. Void-step.
Rear aura tingled.
"Masterful. Perfect score. Grasped flows instant—unbelieved..."
Schult beamed content, staff-backward trained.
Mana swell. Annihilation.
Straight slam? Ejection sure.
"Well fought."
Done? Schult's murmur drew Licht's inner lament.
Back-glimpse: staff zeroed.
Sword-parry lags spell-strike.
Flawless pinch.
Spar concluded. Ring-infuse, shock-sink.
No.
Truly?
Not yet.
Feasible vibe.
Will synced: time constricted languid.
Sound receded vast.
Scope ballooned, cogents surged.
Can do.
Slackened flux: recent spells replayed.
Hundred-drop, blink-birth, proximal mana ghosts.
Rend void. Vault ether. Empower impossible.
Default forbid.
Two.
Crave: dual crowns stack.
Five hoops: miracle-proof.
Viable?
Clan days: temp-triple over duo. Insight-forced anomaly. Toll: bedbound convalesce.
Green frame excess-overdraw: merciless.
7th? Duo sole, realm-leap gulf.
Yet.
Mind lightning: epiphany, spark.
Go time.
Now alone.
Heart-orbit quintet: will-whirled feral.
Superimposed duo draught. Temp-woven pair suffused incumbents.
Right-hand: alabaster radiance erupted.
Core inferno-raged; anomaly-sniffed, Schult's lids crept warp.
Blade evanesced. Aura vaulted.
7th Circle unique: Eclipse.
Whoosh—
Darkness smothered omnidirect.
Sun-shrouded instant: ebon pall.
Crowd-veiled; duelists sole vista.
Void-vaulted Ascension burst through.
Ivory edge rent gloom.
Craaaack.
Forthwith, white sword-path sundered space.