The Clash of the Century
Finally, Kaion and I were able to sit face-to-face.
The barrier had been breached, but no one had come rushing in. Was it because everyone was buried in their research? Hmm, this really was a bizarre place.
Kaion offered me a cigarette.
"Wanna smoke one?"
"I don't smoke."
"Tch, your loss with this good stuff."
Kaion inhaled the smoke deep into his lungs. The table was littered with haphazardly scattered liquor bottles, and the ashtray was piled high with cigarette butts—a testament to how much of a chain-smoker he was.
"So? You want me to join the war?"
"Not join the war—come under me."
"And in exchange, you'll teach me magic?"
"That's right."
"Sounds like a raw deal for you. I don't see why I'd bother."
"Then let's make a bet. What do you say?"
"What kind of bet?"
Kaion finally showed a spark of curiosity. This was exactly how you had to talk to mages—tease their interest just a little to get them engaged. I knew that well, so I'd steered the conversation this way on purpose.
And sure enough, Kaion was hooked.
"The tower lord and I duel using only magic. Loser serves the winner. If you win, you get my magic for free."
"Oho, now that's intriguing."
"We do it at noon today. How about it? This way, the brotherly dynamic can flip."
"Heh heh heh, even if you've reached 7th Circle, you think you can beat someone like me who's devoted his life to magic research?"
"We'll see when we try. What, you scared?"
"Kekeke, just keep your promise. Swear it on your mana."
"Mana too?"
"Make a Mana's Oath."
Mana's Oath. It was a contrived binding constraint created for the novel's convenience. The protagonist needed an easy way to scoop up mages, so this was the solution. A Mana's Oath was a vow sworn on one's own mana, and breaking it caused your mana to collapse forcibly. At least half would vanish, so mages—who treated mana like their lifeblood—never swore it lightly.
"I'll make a Mana's Oath."
We drew a magic circle and sliced our palms, dripping blood onto it. With that, the bet was sealed. The terms: a duel using pure magic, with the loser submitting to the winner.
It was a good thing I'd pushed myself to master 8th Circle.
About an hour before noon, urgent news reached the emperor.
Viscount Laxid, the head of the Imperial Intelligence Bureau, delivered the report in person.
"Your Majesty! At noon, the Magic Tower Lord and Marquis Aron will duel!"
"What? What's that supposed to mean?"
The emperor was reviewing documents on troop compositions. To undermine Marquis Aron's power as much as possible, he'd assigned the mediocre 3rd Army from the central forces and planned to skimp on supplies. The ministers were huddled together researching it too, intending to summon and notify Marquis Aron that afternoon.
But then this bombshell hit.
"Marquis Aron visited the Magic Tower Lord today. He was refused at first, but somehow they ended up meeting..."
"Did he barge in and cause a scene?"
"That's our assessment."
"Hah, that damn Marquis Aron is too hot-headed and reckless. Who storms into the Magic Tower like that?"
The emperor clicked his tongue. There was nothing good about antagonizing the Magic Tower. It wasn't confined to the empire—their domains were extraterritorial, scattered worldwide. United, they formed a massive force; the main branch just happened to be in the imperial capital.
Aron had poked the bear and escalated it to a public duel.
Viscount Laxid looked troubled as he continued.
"But... it's a pure magic duel, with the loser becoming the winner's slave."
"What?!"
The emperor jumped in shock. A slave? The man called the Knight of Herculean Strength, fighting the tower lord with magic alone? What kind of absurd situation was this? It meant Aron could end up under the Magic Tower's thumb.
"Should we be happy about this?"
"W-well, from a national perspective, it's good, but considering the immediate crisis..."
"Maybe negotiate with the tower lord later."
"That seems wise."
The emperor's head spun. He'd always planned to crush Aron eventually, and the nobles felt the same. They saw him as plotting to devour the empire; once Death Lord was gone, they'd whittle him down somehow.
But now he might crumble just like that.
"That idiot's really fucked up big time. Dueling the tower lord with magic alone? A 7th Circle grand mage who's spent his life on nothing but magic. No way he stands a chance. Even another 7th Circle mage couldn't touch him..."
Magic had branches. The imperial family and Magic Tower specialized in offensive magic, with the tower at the pinnacle. Even the same spell was stronger from tower mages. That's why the empire desperately tried to enlist them for wars but always failed, now nearly giving up.
Aron must've wanted them for this war. And got beautifully baited.
"He didn't swear a Mana's Oath, did he?"
"He did."
"That stupid bastard!"
The emperor was floored. Breaking a mage's Mana's Oath cost half their mana. For a mage who valued it like life, swearing it meant they'd die before breaking it.
"Anyway, it's good news. Even if Marquis Aron falls, we can still block Death Lord somehow."
"Right, yeah. With the empire's full might... And we could even borrow Marquis Aron from the tower lord!"
"All problems solved."
"Kuhahaha!"
The emperor laughed heartily, feeling a weight lift.
"The duel starts soon."
"Let's go! I'll witness that bastard Aron's downfall personally!"
"We'll prepare!"
Viscount Laxid was excited too.
Whoooosh.
The open field behind the Magic Tower. Mages used it for training. A cool autumn breeze blew, now carrying a chill as harvest season peaked.
Crowds gathered around the field to watch. Tower Lord Kaion holed up in his room, but for his interests, he'd do anything. To claim me, he'd spread the word far and wide—even notifying the empire to draw more spectators.
On one side, imperial royals appeared: the emperor, knights, central nobles. Tower disciples, common citizens—it was a sea of people. Vendors set up stalls, selling food.
Thud, thud.
Kaion and I faced each other.
"Kekeke! I'm thrilled to have a talent like you as my slave!"
"Tower Lord Kaion. They say Magic Tower magic packs a punch—under me, you'd be a huge asset in the war!"
"Dream on, little one. Heh heh, you'll be my lab rat."
"Talk like that, and losing might sting. One more time: no suicide allowed."
"Why kill myself after finally being born? Don't wanna end up in hell either."
Mages and priests didn't get along, but they'd all skimmed the scriptures. Everyone knew suicide meant no divine salvation.
"Enough chit-chat. Attack."
"Kekeke! I'll sweep you away in one go!"
I stood still. As an 8th Circle master, Absolute Barrier could block anything. A mere 7th Circle spell was child's play.
Imperial mages erected barriers everywhere to protect the crowd. Tower mages did the same.
Ruuuumble!
Massive mana surged. I'd called it a magic duel, but I never planned to let it drag. Unless they pummeled me one-sidedly.
The gods were watching too.
Snagging the Magic Tower with one puff of smoke? Massive win.
A wave of immense mana hit, followed by scorching heat. He opened with Hell Fire.
"Flames of hell, slay my foe!"
⟨ Hell Fire ⟩
KABOOOM!
The tower lord was no pushover. Without 8th Circle, I couldn't have blocked it with magic. Hellfire blanketed the ground, carving a massive crater. Everywhere but where I stood turned to lava.
Rumble rumble!
Lava waves swept the area. But I stood unfazed inside my Absolute Barrier, yawning and flopping onto the ground. A white shield enveloped me, unyielding.
"Huh?"
Kaion realized something was wrong. But he dismissed it as a glitch and fired another Hell Fire.
KABOOOM!
Rumble rumble!
This one hit harder. The ground softened further, now fully liquid and sloshing. A normal person would've melted instantly.
Finally, Kaion sensed it.
"Wh-what?"
He unleashed a barrage of 7th Circle spells: Fire Blast, Chain Lightning, wide-area nukes. His face paled from mana drain.
Still, I endured—lying there, casually nodding my head.
"Huff! Huff! This can't be! You're saying that's Absolute Barrier?!"
"Yeah. So?"
"Insane! You expect me to believe you've reached 8th Circle?!"
"Problem with that?"
"...!"
A shockwave rippled through the crowd. An 8th Circle mage—the first since the Magic Empire fell.
I dusted myself off, stretched, and stood.
"Big bro's gonna show you 8th Circle magic. Ready?"
"W-wait!"
Rumble!
I stirred my mana, drawing ambient mana. A tidal wave surged, visible even to normals.
"Try blocking this. It's called Thunder Storm."
Crack!
Zzzzap!
BOOM!
Storm clouds gathered in the clear sky.