The Dignity of the Chief Mage (4)
Marcelo channeled his mana.
"The senior mage Banggrit Tom and I will provide support."
Conversation about the Quirnburk Mechanical Tower. Thanks to that, Marcelo knew I was a demon hunter. A demon had popped out, after all. Here, they were acknowledging my expertise.
It was a relief for me. If Marcelo or Banggrit went all out...
'They'd evaporate like that dirt clod from earlier, down to the bean paste?'
[Severance] occurs on [???]
A demon's claw tore through space with a screech. Aside from its massive size, its true nature remained unknown. But its strength? That I could guess.
'Obviously stronger than a demon king.'
This was a trap. One tailored for the Mage Tower's senior mage, Banggrit. He seemed to realize it too—his mana wavered noticeably.
"Why would a senior mage...?"
Banggrit must have been thinking: if he'd been alone, what would have happened by now? I, the expert, could answer that for him.
'Dead, or possessed and stripped of his body.'
The reason the senior mage's judgment had clouded. No doubt about it—a status ailment. Could anyone face a demon like that while afflicted? Even Banggrit would struggle. But as you can see, he wasn't alone.
"I shall permit no further approach. Inferior demon."
Me, bobbing to the surface even if drowned. "Banggrit, this isn't the time to get lost in thought."
And the chief mage, Marcelo, was there too. I channeled my mana as well, then spoke shamelessly.
"Banggrit Tom."
"I am listening."
"For this battle, you'll submit your rationale in its place."
"R-Rationale submission...?"
"The regular conference was halted just before your presentation. Prove that your research in pure mana holds value enough to resume it. Demonstrate it before me, the convener of this regular conference."
"...!"
Yes, if pride can't be avoided, might as well put it to use...!
My aim was simple.
'Interfere with Banggrit's mana like before.'
With Natural Enemy activated now, I had no shortage of mana. But everything's relative. Beside me stood owners of truly monstrous mana reserves. Moreover, I'd watched them exchange spells.
'And they weren't even going all out.'
No killing intent in their magic. So no matter how vast this thing's experience might be, if I spaced out, nothing would come my way...!
In the end, I'd have to play it dirty again. Of course, no sign of that scheming showed on my face.
"To think the convener of his first conference surpasses even me."
Bringing up the conference in a situation like this. Beyond heartless, how petty did that look? But I'd steeled myself to become an even greater madman.
Yet.
"...Thank you. I shall prove it without fail."
Banggrit's reaction was unexpected. Whatever the reason, it was good news for me. He'd already begun manifesting his spell.
Pure Mana Beam
Rrrroooaaar—! Yes, this time with true killing intent.
Krraaaack—!
When ranked purely by destructive power, pure mana spells were among the elite. The moment vast mana maximized its interference—the terrifying pressure of a mana beam lanced toward the claw.
That was when it happened.
Krunch—!
The claw tore off a massive chunk, raising it like a shield. I sensed it instinctively.
'Regardless of power.'
Strictly speaking, that was a fragment of the rift. A piece of the anomaly. A shield fusing two utterly different concepts. What could be called the purest magic—pure mana spells—couldn't pierce that anomalous shield.
Sure enough, my prediction hit the mark.
BOOM— The rift fragment clashed with the mana beam. The beam scattered, mana spraying everywhere. But so what?
"Where has your initial momentum gone, puny demon?"
I'd aimed for this exact scenario from the start.
"Do you truly believe cowering behind a shield holds meaning?"
Precisely right after Banggrit's spell manifested. That vast spraying mana!
I didn't hesitate.
"How foolish."
I scanned the surging mana, interfered with utmost familiarity. Manifested.
What arose were hundreds—no, thousands of lights.
Banggrit stammered. "...In that split second...?"
Wondering if I was squeezing basic spells like bone broth? I couldn't know his shock's reason. What mattered wasn't Banggrit's reaction.
Floooaat— Pure mana's basic spell. Pure mana orbs, lights. These orbs could manifest any spell. Of course, mana cost varied wildly by interference. Pure mana focused on simple, destructive interference for that reason.
But.
'Not me.'
Yes, I had more than just magic. Not digging one well meant I had a usable stat.
Aesthetics: Low
[Adds aesthetic sense to all things.]
Shortcuts, macros, or copy-paste mastery. More hassle than usual, but one button press yielded output several, dozens of times greater with Aesthetics.
Magic and stat. Fusion of two disparate concepts. An anomaly in itself. But even with superior efficiency, thousands of mana orbs as targets? For real? Mana drained in real time. At this rate, it wasn't draining—it was leaking like a bottomless jar...!
"No use scheming from behind your shield."
Of course, I couldn't show it. Neck to spine ramrod straight. I continued in an unwavering voice.
"Determining the method of the hunt falls to my authority as well."
Hunt method meant spell type. Yes. I'd activated the Aesthetics stat effect. Thousands of lights, each manifesting a different spell. What worked best? No time to ponder—smash every spell I knew (and didn't) into it. Truly me: barbarically ignorant manifestation.
Yet with aesthetic sense added, perhaps...
"Magnificent...!"
Even Marcelo marveled at the spectacle. Flames, water, ice, lightning, wind... A riot of attributes. Every field of magic intertwined. Some took sharp weapon forms. Others, soldiers wielding them. Even cavalry bearing those soldiers.
My verdict?
"Still immature."
Simple reason.
Aesthetics: Low
The stat lingered at 'Low.' Already painting a vivid picture. What wonders at Mid or High...?
"Th-That's immature?! What part!!"
Banggrit wailed, clueless about Aesthetics. It must look insanely impressive. Flashy sells, after all.
Charge— Thousands of spells surged. Aesthetics shone, truly a living legion. The claw spun, gripping its rift fragment, circling to deal damage.
Exorcism Ritual had been active awhile. How did aesthetic-laced spells look to it? One thing certain: far more dazzling than to Banggrit.
Soon, a message appeared before my eyes.
Severance occurs on [???].
*
The Seven Deadly Sins, Envy, screamed.
"Damn iiiit!!"
It hurts. It hurts. It hurts.
"My arm!!!"
The severed arm wouldn't regrow. Simple implication: the one who took it was a demon hunter.
Realization dawned.
"So that's what happened!!"
The Seven Deadly Sins, Greed. Demon King Decarabia. Why they'd been cast into hell. Yes, defeated by that guy. The insolent fool who'd just taken his arm!!
He'd sensed it instantly: demon hunter. The fool had dragged him into his consciousness outright. Daring to summon one called a great evil, a Sin...?
He'd targeted the mage's body initially. But a demon hunter? Not bad. Sounded fun. Holy War. Their faces there had been priceless.
But strange. From the moment he'd entered the consciousness of this great evil...
The fool's mentality shouldn't have held.
"Inferior demon."
Why? He was fine. Struggling desperately? No, not even a hint.
"Where has your initial momentum gone, puny demon?"
"Do you truly believe cowering behind a shield holds meaning?"
"How foolish."
...How was this possible? The fool's mind unshaken. Nay, advancing on him. Hunting a Sin, a great evil!
...Dangerous. No, I, this body, in danger? Yes, primal fear of a natural enemy. Awakening what he'd forgotten as a great evil.
Envy thought coldly. Yes, an unforeseen accident. Such sensations? Demon hunter? He was a Sin, great evil.
If not for those mages, that fool would be...
Gnashing teeth—
"Determining the method of the hunt falls to my authority as well."
A chilling voice echoed. Through the gap, something appeared. An army afloat in the air.
"!"
Where from? Innumerable legion. Thousands—no, tens of thousands.
Soon, it charged.
Whiiiish— Terror short-circuited his senses. Scorching heat. Icy chill. Tingling electricity. Myriad auras assailed him.
Broken senses screamed: evade. But the assault was too swift. Like the mages' spells.
"Gaaaaahhh!!"
Legion? Magic? Unknown collided. Result: him fleeing, one arm lost.
"Damn it! Why?!"
What was a mere human...?
"A mere humaaaan!!"
How? Such mentality. Such comrades. Such demeanor?
Envy roiled. And more surfaced.
"...No way?"
Arcana Continent's shifting tides. Culprit: demon hunters' ultimate weapon. He'd blamed dwarves. Akkshan Base annihilated. Hunters extinct. Only dwarves could activate it.
Good, he'd thought. Activating it meant dwarves emerging. Trace them to their lair.
But no traces. Then encountering him. A demon hunter.
Implication clear.
"That was his doing too?!"
Envy boiled.
"A mere humaaaan!!"
He traversed dimensions freely. Enough to wield the ultimate weapon. Even he—no great evil—couldn't interfere so across dimensions.
"...!"
Realization chilled his spine. Fear he'd forgotten in envy resurfaced.
"Is he in a higher realm than me?"
Unacceptable. But if true... It fit. The fool's condescending gaze. Overwhelming combat. Trans-dimensional feats. Final warning to the fleeing him.
"Demon who lost your right arm. I remember that fact."
Demon hunter. Right arm lost to him: irrecoverable. Meet again? He'd recognize the one-armed evil. Then...?
"Will I, this body, be cast into hell?"
Like Greed, erased entirely? Fear lingered. He gained perspective.
"...This wound suffices."
Yes, content with Arcana. No more dimension-hopping. At least while that demon hunter watched...!!
*
The rift's collapse rate spiked rapidly. Then the recommended level shifted.
Recommended level: a full thousand. Players shouted.
"Can't even meme this! Big bros!!"
"What the hell's happening? What's going on inside...!"
"...Lee Hoyeol, you sure he's okay?"
Hoyeol and Mage Tower chief mage Marcelo. Hours since they'd entered. Collapse spiking wasn't enough—now recommended level soared too. Worry natural.
But as always, concern didn't last.
A silhouette rippled in the rift. Footsteps echoed.
Clack—
Hoyeol emerged. Not a scratch, not a speck of dust. Eyes locked on him naturally.
"!!!"
But as always, Hoyeol declared coldly.
"No questions."
Reason concise.
"Internal affairs."