Chapter 358 – A Spectacle Worth Witnessing (2)
Delmud took a deep breath. His heart pounded fiercely.
‘To think such an opportunity would present itself!’
Even within the Ducal House, Count Fenris was considered a thorn in their side. The once immature youth had grown into a formidable figure, defeating Count Desmond and now rising as a dominant force in the North.
As a result, all of the Ducal House’s operations in the North had been ruined, while the Royal Faction grew emboldened. Worse, the perception had spread that the Ducal Faction was weaker than expected.
But what if Count Fenris were to be killed here? The tide of war would shift drastically in their favor.
‘As long as Amelia plays her part, the North will fall into our hands in one swift move.’
The days of Raypold and Desmond keeping each other in check were long gone. If Count Fenris disappeared, there would be no one left to stop Raypold.
Of course, killing Count Fenris wouldn’t go unanswered by the Royal Faction. Attacking a Grand Lord without justification was no trivial matter.
But it didn’t matter. The Ducal House would act swiftly, striking before the Scarlet Tower could be obliterated.
If they secured the North, they would hold dominion over all regions save the East.
Delmud forced himself to calm his surging emotions. A mage had to remain cold and composed at all times.
‘How close are we?’
He glanced around subtly. For the entourage of a Grand Lord, the scale was surprisingly modest: around 20 knights and 100 soldiers.
‘I can’t determine Count Fenris’s exact combat strength….’
Rumors suggested Count Fenris was close to the rank of a Master. If that were true, Delmud was confident he could handle him alone.
The problem lay in the individuals accompanying Count Fenris.
Fenris’s troops were reputed to be elite. Their numbers were small, but they were undoubtedly a formidable force.
To top it off, there were also mages from the Crimson Flame Tower.
‘And that man….’
The white-haired figure standing like an iron tower next to Count Fenris was unmistakably Gillian, the warrior who had made a name for himself during the Battle of Desmond’s Stronghold.
‘This won’t be easy.’
Though he itched to strike immediately, Delmud knew he had to wait for a better opportunity. For now, the priority was to bring down the Crimson Flame Tower. If they could kill Count Fenris in the process, all the better. If not, there was always the option of launching a surprise attack after the exchange concluded.
Suppressing his anxiety, Delmud licked his lips and greeted his counterpart. Yet, despite his efforts, the faint glint of murderous intent lingered in his gaze.
“Pleased to meet you. I am Delmud, Tower Master of the Scarlet Tower. It’s an honor to meet the renowned Count Fenris of the North.”
Ghislain responded with a cold smile.
“I’ve heard you’re the only one in the North who has reached the 7th Circle. It’s an honor to meet someone so extraordinary.”
At those words, Hubert pursed his lips in dissatisfaction. Being the only one in the North to reach the 7th Circle naturally implied that Delmud was the region’s most powerful mage.
The two exchanged pleasantries under a subtle tension. Both discarded the pretense of extended formalities.
Neither Delmud nor Ghislain had any intention of wasting time, both keenly observing for an opening to strike.
‘The best outcome would be to draw him into the duel.’
Traditionally, Tower Masters and Elders refrained from direct participation in such duels. But Delmud might disregard tradition entirely if he truly intended to overpower the Crimson Flame Tower.
If that happened, Ghislain planned to respond accordingly.
“Are the introductions over? Let’s begin,” Hubert said, frowning.
The Scarlet Tower and the Crimson Flame Tower had long abandoned any pretense of civility.
“Hohoho… indeed,” Delmud chuckled softly as he and Hubert returned to their respective positions.
The duel was set to consist of five rounds. Under the heavy tension, the first disciples chosen from each side stepped forward.
The Scarlet Tower fielded a 4th-Circle mage, while the Crimson Flame Tower sent out a mere 2nd-Circle disciple.
Hubert, unwilling to risk losing a promising talent over this confrontation, deliberately chose a weaker representative. At the same time, he did not want his disciple to suffer serious injuries or death.
“Just give it your best shot and concede quickly. Don’t worry about appearances, alright?” Hubert encouraged with a mix of gruffness and concern.
“Yes, sir. I understand,” replied the young mage as they stepped forward.
A low hum resonated through the air as a magical barrier formed, ensuring the duel would not harm onlookers. The field was vast enough to accommodate an entire army’s formation. Creating a barrier of such magnitude required an enormous number of runestones.
Typically, the costs associated with such exchanges were shared among the participating towers.
‘Those bastards didn’t even contribute a single coin.’
The Scarlet Tower had insisted on hosting the exchange without paying a single gold coin, leaving Hubert bitter.
Not only was he hemorrhaging personal funds, but now he faced potential humiliation.
“Let the duel begin!”
With the signal from the elder acting as the judge, the duel began.
Flash!
The Crimson Flame Tower’s mage immediately launched a fireball. He had no intention of putting up a real fight. Planning to surrender soon, he merely unleashed a half-hearted attack as a pretext before giving up.
But the Scarlet Tower’s mage had no intention of letting him off so easily.
“Wind Cutter.”
Slice!
The blade of wind released by the 4th-Circle mage sliced through the fireball and, without pause, severed the opposing mage’s throat.
Thud!
As the mage’s head fell to the ground, a heavy silence enveloped the area. The disciples of the Crimson Flame Tower turned pale.
They hadn’t expected such a blatant killing.
Unprepared for this level of brutality, they hesitated, unable to step forward.
Amidst the frozen atmosphere, Hubert shot up from his seat, shouting furiously.
“You bastard! Murder right at the start?!”
Delmud sneered at Hubert’s outrage.
“Isn’t it common knowledge that casualties can occur during duels?”
“You!”
Grinding his teeth, Hubert glared at Delmud. He had expected hostility but not such outright disregard for decency.
His gaze darted to where Ghislain sat.
‘What is he thinking?’
Unlike the others, Ghislain sat nonchalantly, as if he had anticipated this.
Hubert recalled Ghislain’s earlier warning.
“They might just go mad and kill everyone there.”
Shaking his head vigorously, Hubert dismissed the thought.
‘No, no. That can’t happen. The Royal Faction wouldn’t stand for it. Even if they came here with such intentions, they wouldn’t dare pull such a stunt in the presence of Count Fenris.’
Killing Count Fenris would bring disaster upon the Scarlet Tower. Surely, Delmud wouldn’t be foolish enough to provoke such a crisis.
Taking several deep breaths to compose himself, Hubert turned to the next disciple set to duel.
“When the duel starts, surrender immediately. Don’t even try to fight.”
“Yes, sir,” the disciple replied with a terrified expression, nodding repeatedly.
The disciple, trembling, stepped forward, internally lamenting.
‘Why did it have to be me?’
Many disciples in the tower were of higher circles than he was. He understood why he was chosen so that the more talented disciples could be protected.
While he could accept the reasoning, it felt bitterly unfair.
After all, mages were beings who lived for pride and arrogance.
Yet here they were, the once-prestigious Crimson Flame Tower, entering a duel with the expectation of losing from the outset.
He stole a glance behind him. Numerous disciples stood watching, some of whom outranked him. Yet they didn’t seem indignant or offended at being overlooked. Instead, they nervously avoided eye contact, fearful of being called next.
‘Our tower is finished.’
The thought struck him like a hammer. Wealth and power meant nothing if the tower’s heart, the Tower Master, elders, and disciples had turned into meek lambs.
Gulp.
The disciple swallowed hard as he faced the Scarlet Tower’s mage.
Their difference was palpable. The Scarlet Tower mages exuded a menacing aura, like starving predators.
Even if they survived this duel, the Crimson Flame Tower would ultimately be devoured.
‘I need to leave once this is over.’
He had no illusions about his fate. Even if he survived today, staying in the Crimson Flame Tower would be a death sentence sooner or later.
“Begin!”
With the elder’s shout, the magical barrier once again enveloped the dueling area.
Before the duel could even start, the Crimson Flame Tower’s mage raised his hand and shouted, “I surrender!”
The Scarlet Tower’s mage clicked his tongue, a mocking smile on his face.
“Pathetic.”
Despite the open insult, the Crimson Flame Tower’s mage only flushed with embarrassment, unable to respond.
Laughter erupted from the Scarlet Tower’s side.
“People like that dare call themselves mages? Strutting around pretending to be superior?”
“Their reputation as the North’s greatest must have been fabricated.”
“Weaklings with no pride. Disgraceful.”
The Scarlet Tower mages didn’t hold back their derision, but the Crimson Flame Tower offered no rebuttal.
Though Hubert had preemptively advised against responding, the truth was, none of them wanted to fight.
A few disciples wore expressions of anger, but that was all. Even as their pride was trampled, they avoided meeting the Scarlet Tower mages’ eyes, overwhelmed by their oppressive presence.
Watching this, Ghislain silently shook his head.
‘They’ve grown far too soft in their peace.’
With its once-glorious reputation as the North’s greatest tower, the Crimson Flame Tower now stood in utter disgrace.
It wasn’t surprising. Unlike the Scarlet Tower, which moved with a clear purpose, the Crimson Flame Tower had grown complacent, content to stagnate in its present comfort.
Seeking safety wasn’t inherently bad; there were times when patience and endurance were necessary. But remaining idle for too long inevitably led to falling behind.
The difference in goals was reflected in the very mindset of their mages.
‘And the difference in skill is just as stark.’
If Delmud were merely a 6th-Circle mage, the situation wouldn’t have gone this far. Such was the overwhelming authority of a 7th-Circle mage.
Confronting him head-on would result in significant losses, with no guarantee of victory. Thus, they had no choice but to endure.
While Ghislain clicked his tongue in frustration, the third duel ended just as the others had. The Crimson Flame Tower’s mage had surrendered the moment the barrier was activated.
“Ugh, pathetic fools.”
“Why even agree to the duels in the first place?”
“Why don’t they just join us already?”
The Scarlet Tower mages hurled crude insults and ridicule.
Ordinarily, some sense of decorum would have restrained them, but Delmud and his elders seemed to have allowed this brazenness. The Scarlet Tower mages’ taunts grew increasingly bold.
“Ugh…”
Hubert clenched his fists, his face red with anger. He wanted nothing more than to storm over and burn their smug faces.
But unless he was prepared to declare an all-out war, he had to restrain himself. Fighting would gain them nothing.
The elders, like Hubert, could only seethe in frustration, their faces tense with suppressed rage.
After a long bout of deep breathing, Hubert finally spoke.
“Let’s call it a day. You’ve won three times already; isn’t that enough to achieve your goal of humiliating us?”
The duels were supposed to consist of five rounds, but Hubert saw no point in continuing and requested they stop.
Delmud, however, shook his head with a mocking smile.
“If we’re going to start something, we should see it through. Besides, isn’t this event meant to showcase the achievements of our disciples, not determine a winner?”
“You bastard…”
Sweat beaded on Hubert’s forehead as he gritted his teeth.
He was desperate to avoid a fourth round, as the next participant was none other than Alfoi, the heir to their tower.
Swallowing his dry throat, Hubert turned to Alfoi, who stood with a sullen expression.
“You… Just surrender the moment you step in there.”
Though Alfoi was the heir to the tower, he had been stuck at the 3rd Circle for years. There was no chance of victory.
If the heir lost, the humiliation would be immeasurable, but the Crimson Flame Tower had already suffered plenty. Better for him to live than to die in vain.
Alfoi scratched his head in frustration before speaking.
“Seriously? You want me to just stand there and take this? They’re mocking us, and we’re supposed to do nothing? Weren’t we the North’s greatest once?”
Hubert snapped back, equally irritated.
“Grow up! You spent your days handling construction projects, and yet you still haven’t learned humility? Do you think you can win? They’ll send at least a 4th-Circle mage against you!”
“Well, you don’t know until you try, right?”
Alfoi pouted stubbornly.
Though he had endured countless hardships alongside Ghislain, he had learned one thing: you don’t know the outcome until you try. Wasn’t that confidence the reason Fenris’s territory had thrived?
But Hubert didn’t seem to agree.
“You fool! How can you win with a lower circle?”
With Hubert’s scolding, Alfoi scratched his head again. Truthfully, he had no confidence either.
He had captured fleeing 4th-Circle mages in the past, but that was with the help of his comrades. He had never fought alone, and these Scarlet Tower mages exuded an intimidating aura that unnerved him.
“Fine, fine, I got it,” Alfoi muttered reluctantly as he staggered forward.
At first, his pride had made him angry, but now, facing the duel, he was more nervous than anything.
His life mattered more than anything else. He had no intention of dying a pointless death.
As Alfoi stepped forward, the Scarlet Tower’s side reacted.
“Isn’t that the Crimson Flame Tower’s heir? We’ll need to send someone suitable,” Delmud remarked with a smirk.
At his words, one of his disciples confidently strode forward. The man introduced himself the moment he stood before Alfoi.
“My name is Brody, the Tower Master’s first disciple and heir to the Scarlet Tower. A pleasure to meet you.”
Alfoi blinked in surprise. It had been a long time since anyone formally introduced themselves like this, and the situation felt awkward.
“Oh, uh, yeah. I’m”
Before Alfoi could finish, Brody interrupted with a smug grin.
“And I recently became a 4th-Circle Master. If you wish to surrender, do so now. It’s humiliating enough to exchange words with someone as pathetic as you. Surely, you don’t think we’re equals just because we’re both heirs?”
It was an incredibly insulting remark, yet Alfoi realized, to his surprise, that he wasn’t as angry as he thought he’d be.
He pondered this strange reaction and glanced back briefly. There, in the spectator’s area, sat Ghislain, watching with a smile.
‘Ah, that’s right.’
He had spent so much of his life being belittled back in the territory that he had grown entirely numb to such treatment.
Realizing this, Alfoi placed a hand on his forehead and chuckled quietly.
Brody frowned at the unexpected laughter.
“What’s so funny?”
“No, no, it’s just… I couldn’t help but laugh. I can’t believe how much I’ve changed,” Alfoi said, waving his hand dismissively before taking a deep breath.
“Anyway, my name is Alfoi. Heir to the Crimson Flame Tower and head of the Fenris branch. Also…”
Straightening his posture, he lifted his chin confidently.
“I am the man who defeated a god.”
At that moment, his expression brimmed with unparalleled arrogance.