Chapter 255 - Infinite Mage

Even if he doubted Theraze's sword, Bosun was also someone who had strived to make Zion a king. It wasn't a person who would meet such a dismal end because of a mere slip of the tongue. Ekkashi grasped the chipped blade of the Freeze, but soon stared at them in terror. An indescribable dark aura arose from the Triangular Fleet of the Funeral Formation. It was an illusion that only Ekkashi could see. His brain, exposed to the murderous intent of 30 people, was inducing a hallucination of death. ‘I have to fight, for Teacher Bosun...’ It felt like his heart was freezing. With a clattering noise, the Freeze fell from his grasp, and Ekkashi bent over and retched everything out onto the ground. “Ugh! Ugh!” The Funeral Formation didn't even spare him a glance. They had received orders from Theraze to "wrap it up and return," but it wasn’t their fault. They responded appropriately to a silly threat. There was nothing they could do about the fact that Ekkashi's level was much lower than anticipated. ‘Foolish one.’ The report had described him as a promising sixth-level mage from Khazra. However, given that the promotion points increase by more than ten times from level six to level seven, it’s also a tier where skill disparity is the greatest. ‘Even considering that, he’s weak. There must have been a trick.’ Perhaps Khazra, because of its weak magical power, had supported him at a national level. For instance, pooling the points gained from collaborating with other mages to benefit Ekkashi alone. In any case, Ekkashi's journey as a battle mage was over. Having fallen prey to the Funeral Formation's trademark collective aura, ‘Kaksi,’ he would forever be haunted by the fear of death. With Bosun dead and Ekkashi now crumbling, the aristocrats wisely withdrew. The personal guards, witnessing Ekkashi collapse on his own, couldn’t even muster their will to fight. Once the area was sorted out, the Funeral Formation moved again. Fluttering as if each individual were particles in the air, they flew towards Shirone. Reina, who was supporting Shirone, trembled with fear amidst the black storm. Like a whisper of the wind, the Funeral Formation's words reached her ears. The disjointed voices uttered by many created a haunting melody. - We will take Shirone. The continent's top expert will treat Shirone. We shall return him by morning. With the sound of a gust howling within her ear, the Funeral Formation faded and, as if riding a rapid current, circled the Grand Hall and exited through the door. Those assembled today could visually perceive the movement of the wind. Wheel of Cause and Effect (1) “Hoo! Hoo!” Arius ran through the inner castle's garden. It was so late into the night that he couldn’t see an inch ahead, but in Spirit Zone, there was no risk of tripping over roots. However, even for someone among the Seven Great Mages, his heart was ordinary. His breath had reached his throat, so he ceased running and initiated a Flicker spell. He appeared in a completely different direction than intended. Having landed off balance, he curled his aching back like a shrimp and rolled on the ground. This was his twentieth failure. “Damn it! Damn it!” The timeline within the inner castle had been subtly distorted. Though probably only off by one ten-thousandth of a second, such a delicate precision was crucial for the Flicker spell. ‘That guy is pursuing me.’ The Armin endowed with blinding vision. He hadn’t received confirmation yet, but if it was a magical being with temporal abilities, it was definitely him. Two options remained: either run to surpass the castle walls or pierce through Armin’s temporal distortion. But the latter wasn’t a good choice. If he made even a slight mistake, he would end up in a place unconnected to his escape route. Even though the mana control systems weren’t activated yet, this place, where the king resides, was riddled with various magical traps. It was only thanks to memorizing the paths over the past five years that he could find his way through them at all. ‘Keep running. Just because it’s troublesome doesn't mean I’ll stop breathing.’ Arius chose the physical approach. Avoiding Armin was something to think about once he reached the inner castle gate. Once outside Khazra, the world would become an interesting place. Armin had broken the agreement. Once this fact spread, even the wizards from the madman-infested Black Line would have no choice but to unite. A bloody storm would engulf the continent. ‘Although that would certainly be interesting in its own way...’ What fascinated Arius more than a tumultuous world was the discovery of traces of Guffin. Something a mere boy had within him, which countless scholars scouring the world couldn’t unearth. Wheel of Cause and Effect (2) ‘What happens next? The great angel Ikhael and Guffin—could there be a connection, or is it mere coincidence?’ It was certain they were related to the Reset. Once out of the castle, he would research that angle. If Reset were true, there was a high possibility traces were left in other people’s depths as well. He would abduct and dissect anyone and everyone. Just as the castle gate came into view, he slowed down. Guards holding torches patrolled the atop the walls. Arius cautiously attempted Flicker once more. Disappearing with a slight fizz, he reappeared just 30 centimeters ahead. The temporal distortion was gone. ‘Have I lost him?’ Armin had presumably spent quite some time in the food storage, making it difficult to pinpoint his exact location. The only way to achieve a total shift would be by expanding his Spirit Zone to distort the whole region. Considering his short timeline, there was a strong possibility he’d already left. “Yet, somehow, I can’t shake off this uneasy feeling.” Arius watched the guards’ movements attentively. Realizing a gap in their patrol lasted about two minutes, he waited for the right moment, then darted forward. If he could Flicker through the wall, it would all be over. ‘So long, you wretched Khazra.’ “Where are you rushing off to in such a hurry?” Arius’s sprint came to an abrupt halt. The voice came from behind. For someone who barely emitted a presence, it would take considerable skill. ‘Damn it!’ Arius slowly turned around as if in slow motion. Any clumsy move and it might cost him his neck. Ritney Walker, the Head of Khazra’s Guard, was standing with his longsword lowered, grinning like a beast. ‘This is the worst-case scenario.’ Of all people, why did it have to be him? Khazra may lack in magical prowess, but its skills in swordsmanship are nothing to scoff at. Furthermore, Walker was a swordsman most faithful to the doctrine of the Grand Mage War. The best strategy for a swordsman against a mage is "slash before they cast." And Walker was the best at executing this in Khazra; he wrote about it in his beginner's guide to royal fencing. Walker placed his longsword on the ground and gazed up at the night sky. Even with his gaze diverted, Arius found himself unable to move. It was as if Walker's nerves had flown out, ensnaring him like a trap. “Not the time for people to be wandering around, you know. Even the taverns close on nights like these.” “Haha! I just got an urgent appointment. What brings you here, Head of the Guard? Out on patrol?” “Keke, why put on this act between us insiders?” Walker’s eyes gleamed like those of a nocturnal animal. “You’re a tomb raider, aren’t you? Arius of the Seven Great Mages.” “I don’t know what you’re talking about. How many Ariuses do you think exist?” Walker wasn't aligned with Theraze’s faction or Orcamp’s. He worked solely for the prosperity of the kingdom. He had been tracking Arius for a long time. Being one of the Seven Great Mages didn’t matter. Khazra’s lack of magical prowess made it an inevitable choice. However, he couldn’t stand idly by while the kingdom was being disrupted. “Do you know what’s more terrifying than a tyrant king? A sycophant. I give you a choice: surrender quietly, or be sliced in two by my sword.” “Seems fortune was on my side.” Showing his true colors, Arius slowly lowered his hand. Walker wouldn’t make a move unless Arius acted with the intention to flee. That was the wisdom gained from long experience. The reason a mage equipped with teleportation couldn’t escape a swordsman was due to the human delay in activation. Once magic was cast, the swordsman couldn’t catch up to the mage. However, in instances occurring within the human realm, the senses of a seasoned swordsman far surpassed those of a mage. How a swordsman could discern the exact moment a spell was charged remained a mystery to mages. Swordsmen claimed they felt a shift in energy, so mages simply took their word. Arius watched Walker’s every move. To Walker, it might have seemed like a commoner's stare, but Arius, not being a shabby mage, had gleaned some information. Walker’s stance was akin to a volcano on the verge of eruption. Arius sighed with a weary expression. “Hoo. What a bother.” With a thundering clang, the spot where Arius had just stood was pierced by a sword. As if appearing later than the sword itself, Walker stood in a finishing stance of a vertical slash. “What the hell...!” Arius had vanished, half a beat too late. No, even that couldn’t be certain. The timing had been spot on. The speed of perception, the speed of the senses, the speed of nerves, the speed of action—all surpassed the ordinary. Arius hadn't even seen his own movement. It was as if there was a time disparity equivalent to the difference between human and mosquito perception. ‘Then how did he escape?’ It wasn't employing any standard movement spells. Nor was it Flicker. It seemed as if he simply vanished. Invisible magic, Invisibility? Even if so, it made no sense for the casting speed to have increased. However, given the current situation, Walker couldn't ignore any possibility, so he surveyed the surroundings. “Captain! What happened?” Guards ran over, having heard the explosion. “We're searching for Arius from now. Strengthen the inner castle’s defenses and convene all standby forces.” “Wha—, Arius? Isn't he the technical advisor to His Majesty?” “He's a traitor inciting rebellion. The longer we delay, the tougher it’ll get, so move quickly.” The guards dispersed efficiently. Walker, observing his subordinates’ movements, ventured into the forest. If Arius had cast invisibility, there might be traces left behind. As everyone departed, a Flicker spell was cast, revealing a man like a specter. It was Armin. “Apoptosis. A rational decision.” Apoptosis was known to be one of the highest difficulty scale magics in micro space. It requires diving deep into one's own mind for its execution. When the body enters the mind, the boundary between thought and reality collapses, turning into an abstract form. There are neither emotions nor thoughts. The possibility of Arius returning by his own power was exceedingly slim. ‘Better than dying, I suppose.’ Certainly better than dying. A mage should have at least one trump card in their arsenal. Indeed, Walker's response couldn’t be faulted. But Apoptosis was such a feedback loop of the Spirit Zone that its casting time was almost negligible. Armin had lifted the time distortion to account for the possibility of Arius being captured by Walker. If he were killed, it didn’t matter, but unnecessary capture followed by spilling secrets would complicate the situation. ‘There’s no concern for now.’ Arius wouldn’t have attempted Apoptosis without a method of return. Either he established an agreement with someone for such a scenario, or prepared a mechanism in advance. Whether it takes a year, ten years, or perhaps even a hundred years, he might not return. However, that he would return someday was certain. ‘A supporter is likely involved. I should start my investigation there.’ The most probable suspects were among the Seven Great Mages. Recalling the faces of its members, Armin grimaced. Arius was amongst the more composed lot; the others were lunatics stirring chaos. ‘Time to head out.’ Armin glanced back at the royal castle. Although he wanted to stay by Shirone’s side a bit longer, there was no time to waste. He needed to return to Keira without delay. Executing Flicker, with a faint fizz, his figure disappeared. Walker’s shouts faded softly in the empty space. *** Xenoger sped through the subterranean emergency escape tunnels. With every ten steps, a trap was triggered. Traps where the ground opened up, arrows came flying, and spiked logs swung like pendulums. Xenoger navigated through the traps without reducing his pace. When the ground gave way beneath him, he leaped over it. The spiked log, meant to swing at intruders, got caught in a web net that spewed from his mouth, halting prematurely. “Haah! Haah!” Leaning against a corner of the underground maze, he took a brief respite. His forehead, glistening with sweat, mirrored the flicker of the ceiling's shadows above him. He couldn't save Zion. That’s why he fled. Theraze would not let an assassin who failed the mission live. He could accept his own death, but losing the Spatur lineage—which relied entirely on Theraze's support—was unacceptable. ‘I must escape and find a new power to align with.’ Their clan had been in the assassination business for nearly a millennium. While they might not meet Theraze’s standards, there were plenty of factions that would find their skills valuable. After regaining just enough strength to continue, Xenoger resumed running through the maze. Somehow, he had to escape the castle before dawn. The floor clanked open like a trapdoor beneath him. Reacting purely on instinct, he leaped and latched onto the ceiling with his web, flying in an arc. At that moment, a dagger flew straight toward him. “Gah!” He twisted his body in the air, dodging the dagger as it sliced past him. The dagger, meant to be thrown by a human hand, flew like an arrow, lodging itself into a wall. Landing deftly, Xenoger immediately adopted a defensive posture. His body expanded, revealing four extra arms, and six eyes opened at his temples. “Who are you? Show yourself.” From a shadowed corner, a petite woman emerged. Her short black hair was shorn in a straight fringe. She squinted her eyes slightly, and wore a narrow pencil dress that seemed more like wrapping paper enveloping rather than clothing her, hardly the attire of an assassin. Her hands, clasped demurely together, held both the sheath and handle of a dagger, the blade halfway drawn. “A hitman? Who hired you?” “There’s nothing you need to know, as you’re about to leave this world.” Her voice was refreshing, enough to clear the mind with just a sound. But Xenoger was not fooled. The voice had been altered through extensive training. “Heh, well, that’s how life is, isn’t it?” As Xenoger's comment ended, a dagger was thrown. Leaping towards the ceiling, he spread webs in all directions. Transforming the environment to his advantage, he swung thick cables like whips. The woman appeared in multiple places at once, like riding rails, swiftly positioning herself behind him. ‘What a unique footwork.’ Even with such a narrow pencil skirt, which couldn’t allow much leg movement, and peculiar sandals slipped between her toes, she moved with astonishing speed. Her acceleration intervals were so dense, it felt as if she was pursuing an afterimage. Initially, her movements seemed slow, but her explosive short-distance speed brought her swiftly to him. She was truly tricky, using unpredictable acceleration that defied conventional timing, making it impossible to anticipate. ‘Her rhythm is completely different.’ She made her living by it. In terms of classification, this would be in the realm of the circus arts—a hitman’s term for tactics using physical prowess to deceive the opponent. For a brief moment, he wondered who she was, but it was just a fleeting thought. An assassin still active has no name to speak of. Xenoger cast a web curtain to block her approach. Once he grasped her rhythm, he could start predicting her movements. From that moment, the tide turned. Xenoger dashed like a spider between walls, closing in on the woman. Daggers flew at an irregular rhythm, yet he wasn’t shaken anymore. The last dagger he caught with his mouth by twisting his neck. “Hahah! Not bad for circus work.” Xenoger closed the distance, lifting the upper part of his arms in reverse joints. He grabbed the woman’s face as he flipped over her shoulder, pressing her head hard against the wall. With a thud, a crack spread across her face. Pieces of porcelain-like skin fell to the floor. Xenoger swiftly moved his three left hands. One hand tightened around her neck, one slipped under her skirt, and found nothing but a flat surface. His middle hand grabbed and tore at her bust, feeling the sensation of crushed cushions, akin to fat, tearing through silk fabric. Her exposed chest was flat, and below, thin ribs protruded. Wheel of Cause and Effect (3) “I expected as much.” As the woman attempted to shift her head forward to break free, Xenoger slammed her head against the wall again. The blunt sound repeated, stripping away the porcelain facade covering her face completely. It was a grotesque man's face. No, to an observer, it was impossible to determine the gender.