The Chief Mage's Dignity (3)

[Cracked Dimensional Rift]. True to its name, the rift's landscape was anything but ordinary. Rifts were always bizarre to begin with, but this one went beyond bizarre.

It's like when graphics glitch out.

Above all, neither the scenery of reality nor Arcana was clearly visible. Not sure if this description fits, but it was like someone had forcibly pried the rift open...

Hold on.

A sudden thought struck me. Today wasn't Thursday. Not the day for new updates or new rifts. Which meant this Cracked Dimensional Rift wasn't a scheduled one. So my impression that it felt forcibly opened wasn't just nonsense.

"Do all rifts look like this?"

"No. The realm of anomalies isn't this pathetic."

"Then it's fortunate."

Indeed, it was Marcelo. Even though it was his first time entering a rift, he immediately sensed something suspicious.

Marcelo continued. "As you said, there's no benefit in letting internal affairs leak out."

This involved none other than the Mage Tower's leadership. If word spread not only that a senior mage had gone missing, but that it was tied to the leadership? The fallout would be immense.

"Let's end this swiftly."

Marcelo's declaration. I say it again: there's nothing more reassuring. Sincerely.

Mana rippled from Marcelo's body. Having watched him once before, I recognized the process at a glance. It was tracking magic.

Soon, Marcelo's hollow eyes gleamed. "I've detected Banggrit Tom's mana. Opening a portal."

A portal manifested instantly. If it were me, two casts like that would've burned through a third of my mana. But Marcelo showed no sign of depletion. Time to grasp my place again. I've still got a long way to go.

But my presence... it never falls short of anyone else's.

Clack—

"...Who goes there!"

It was all because of this guy's shoe clicks. With Grandfell's personality, stealth was impossible. His strides always brimmed with power.

"M-Marcelo? And Joint Researcher Lee Hoyeol too?"

Thanks to that, I faced Banggrit Tom, his face drained of color. Tousled brown curly hair. His panicked reaction let me exhale in relief first.

Doesn't seem hostile.

Marcelo spoke before me. "Banggrit. I can guess the circumstances."

"...Chief Mage Marcelo. I-I..."

"We're not here to interrogate you."

"...!"

Banggrit bowed his head. Once more, what fortune. If I'd come alone? I'd have spat venom from the start.

Like, 'I knew from the bribery attempt.' Or 'You ruined my conference.'

This realization hits anew. No wonder they say words can repay a debt of a thousand nyang.

But persuasion by words seemed impossible here. Mana rippled from Banggrit's body.

"I know you're not the type, Chief Mage Marcelo. But forgive me. I can't miss this chance!"

Pure Mana Studies. No inefficient searching process exists. Magic that wields pure mana as its weapon, unmatched in destructive power by any other. Banggrit Tom, called the pinnacle of such studies.

Rooooar—

He cast his spell. "Forgive the rudeness."

Swooooosh—!

I grasped it at once. A beam of condensed mana. The structure was simple—no need for analysis. Targeting only vast mana. Interference maximized solely for destruction. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠And activation speed beyond compare.

"!"

Boomboomboomboom—!

Its power defied imagination. Zzzzzzt—! The ground shattered, the air roiled. Even the rising dust evaporated without trace.

...For real.

What terrified me more? No killing intent in Banggrit's magic. He just meant to shove us away. The deviated trajectory proved it.

Yet even that glancing destruction held this might. Is this what a Mage Tower senior mage is?

No wonder the Mage Tower is called Arcana's strongest force...

Marcelo deployed a barrier, offsetting the aftermath. A self-defense spell only possible with overflowing mana.

Insanely jealous.

Of course, I had to conserve mana meticulously. As always, scraping by with whatever I had.

The target mana surged through this space. Precisely, Banggrit's mana.

I searched the raging aftermath mana and interfered to cast. Complex interference was impossible, of course. The power was no joke, after all. To avoid getting caught, simplify the process.

Not that I needed complexity. The target was pure mana. I'd learned through experience how to interfere with such mana for casting.

Fwoomp— Hundreds of mana orbs floated in the air. Yes, light. The basic pure mana spell, light.

"...!!"

Stinging gazes hit me. Marcelo and Banggrit looked like they'd seen something unbelievable. Amid high-tier spells flying everywhere, who could've imagined this lowly basic one?

But this was my best, my way. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Thrashing to survive a Lv.900 ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠rift at a measly Lv.296.

Stare all you want; nothing I can do.

I said shamelessly, "A poor welcome. Banggrit Tom, senior mage."

Pathetic counter, but my mouth runs free.

Banggrit yelled, "Damn it, just leave me alone!"

At this point, I was sure. ...Maybe I should shut up and stay put to help?

Swooooosh—! Banggrit unleashed spells again. But this time, Marcelo didn't just watch.

Equally swift casting. Boomboom—! Vast mana clashed. The victor was clear.

Marcelo spoke. "I want no part in this futility, Banggrit."

That was why Marcelo held the chief seat. He'd formalized most existing magic theoretically. No mage knew spell matchups better.

"Damn!"

In the end, Banggrit retreated. Short-range teleport. He dodged desperately.

...Grateful the battlefield was inside a rift. In reality? Dozens of buildings gone, mountains crumbling—no exaggeration.

But the outcome was obvious. Chief vs. senior. The gap was plain.

Banggrit realized it too. He didn't cast rashly. Grinding his teeth, he said, "Do you know...?"

"Know what?"

"That's why I came here."

Banggrit glared at Marcelo. "Born to a famed magical family in the Empire, with innate genius—Chief Mage Marcelo, you'll never grasp my feelings your whole life."

Marcelo had a great family background. But why glance at me?

"You too, Joint Researcher Lee Hoyeol."

I flinched guiltily. ...Did he figure out my dark history? Heir to the great Claudy family, with embarrassingly immense talent?!

But no. That was my secret alone.

"Having the leisure to rebound my spell with pure mana in an instant... If I'd had talent like yours...! I wouldn't need to come here."

As seen. Just about my talent.

Still unjust. Banggrit needed to look beneath the surface. See how desperately I'd thrashed. Then he couldn't spout such full-bellied nonsense.

Marcelo seemed to share my boomer thoughts. "Banggrit. You're greatly mistaken."

"Mistaken...?"

"My life isn't grand enough to envy."

"What do you mean, Chief Mage Marcelo?"

"You'll understand soon enough."

Just consolation? No way it'd reach Banggrit's ears.

He ground his teeth again and shouted, "No—understand me first, Chief Mage Marcelo! I have no bloodline, no talent. You know it well. How my ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠kind drags down pure mana studies' standing...!"

Suddenly, Marcelo's words came back. Terrible self-esteem despite skill. Perfect description for Banggrit. Imagine other mages hearing this.

I didn't know his family woes well, but if all true... He entered the Mage Tower without that halo?

And became a senior mage. Ultimately, bragging.

No reason to listen more. Or at all.

I spoke. "Enough whining, Banggrit Tom."

"Whining, you say?"

"Your bloodline and talent interest me not."

Judge by blood or innate gift? Grandfell's pride wouldn't allow it.

Nor would hearing details change it.

Yes, this moment. Damn pride demanded one thing.

"Remember: the conference isn't over."

Last presenter of the regular conference. Seat Banggrit Tom in the Crystal Hall.

"What intrigues me is solely your research."

"...!"

"Not lineage, blood, or talent."

Banggrit muttered, "Hah, the conference! I prepared my best and forgot it entirely."

Finally coming to his senses.

Marcelo sighed at last. But it wasn't over. My pride wasn't satisfied yet.

"But first."

"?"

"We'll hold you accountable for this mess."

Yes, settle it clearly. Why rush here mid-conference, forgetting his utmost preparations. Why lament blood and talent gaps in such a rift. And what he discussed with the leadership.

Pride demands fitting justification. Only then can he present at the conference.

Banggrit clutched his head. "During the conference... an elder mage summoned me."

Marcelo nodded. "As expected. What exactly was discussed?"

"About this rift."

"Indeed."

Predicted that much. I asked, "Must be a reason you deemed this rift more important than the conference."

"Th-that... Thinking now, I don't know."

"What do you mean?"

Banggrit looked truly confused. "The elder clearly said truth lies in this rift."

"Truth in a rift? An elder said that?"

"No doubt. 'The truth you seek is inside. Seize it, and none will scorn you...'"

Marcelo's face grew grave. Simple reason.

"You know, Banggrit. Truth isn't seized so easily. That's why it's called truth."

"I know! That's why I'm confused. Why my judgment clouded by such words..."

"Understood. No need to strain. We'll discuss later. All right?"

I nodded to Marcelo's request for permission. Pride wasn't convinced. Just realized.

That suspicious talk meant...

The elder mage never intended to let Banggrit live.

That raised more questions. Why would an elder, part of the leadership, try to kill senior mage Banggrit Tom? And lure him with "truth" to this rift?

Complicated. What tangled internal affairs.

Head-splitting just thinking.

But the knotted mysteries unraveled easily soon after.

"!!!"

A roar echoed in the rift. The glitch-like landscape crumbled. From the breach, a massive hand emerged.

Krrrk—! A black, vicious claw snatched space.

Riiip—! It tore the space apart.

"What in the...?"

Banggrit, even Marcelo, couldn't continue. But I realized. Why Banggrit fell for obvious lies. Why this rift specifically. And that hand's identity.

All thanks to the message before my eyes.

The demon hunter's sharpened senses. Even smell heightened? I'd caught the stench from the start.

"Fools."

I pulled an offering from my inventory.

"You hasten your doom, inferior breed."

Not fully revealed yet, so its name was question marks. But what of it? Grandfell doesn't hesitate before demons. Nor do I, Lee Hoyeol.

Not usually.

But now, flanked by the Mage Tower's chief and senior. Marcelo and Banggrit.

Whoever it was, they'd bitten off more than they could chew. Even a demon king. Even a great evil.

Right now, it was just experience points.