Chapter 362: Now You Must Choose. (1)
Srrrk…
Dark crimson mana surged out wildly, wrapping itself around Ghislain’s body.
Soon, his entire figure was engulfed in the ominous aura. Only his two eyes glowed with a piercing red light, making him look like a demon rising straight from the depths of hell.
‘What on earth is this bastard doing…?’
Even Delmud flinched momentarily at the horrifying sight. Not even he, a mage of extraordinary power, had ever witnessed anything like that before.
One thing was clear: his opponent was strong—so strong that he could stand toe-to-toe with Delmud, who had fully unleashed his magical power.
No, perhaps he was even stronger.
The thought struck Delmud unbidden, and he clenched his teeth.
“A wretch like you, a master?!”
There had been rumors that the Count of Fenris had reached the level of a master, but Delmud had dismissed them as exaggerated nonsense.
However, facing him now, he understood why such rumors had spread. To fight against him at this level—this could only mean he had truly reached the master’s realm.
But Delmud refused to accept it. To acknowledge it would mean admitting that he, Count Desmond, and even the ducal families had made foolish mistakes.
If they had been wiser, they would have killed him first, whether they intended to overturn the North or prepare for civil war.
But back then, who could have anticipated this? Just a few years ago, Ghislain had been known by a single nickname:
“The Madman of the North.”
Everyone had been deceived. The whole world had fallen for his act.
Yet, there was still a chance to make things right.
“Fine, I just have to finish it here.”
Delmud descended slowly to the ground. Every drop of his mana had to be conserved now.
He needed to kill this monstrous opponent with absolute certainty.
Ghislain, too, stood still, waiting for Delmud to land.
He knew exactly what Delmud was thinking. In fact, he wholeheartedly agreed.
Prolonging the fight with trivial techniques would only waste time.
The moment Delmud touched the ground, Ghislain’s figure flickered briefly and vanished from his spot.
BOOM!
The black demon surged forward like a bolt of lightning. Delmud raised one hand, bracing himself.
“Flare!”
Ziiing―!
A beam of fiery light shot out from Delmud’s palm, precisely aimed at the path of Ghislain’s advance.
The collision of immense forces echoed loudly.
KABOOOM!
The fiery beam began to slow Ghislain’s charge. The light continued to pour forth unrelentingly, forcing itself against the advancing opponent.
Encased in the dark crimson energy, Ghislain raised his sword and began cutting through the beam.
Rrrrrrrip!
The light split, scattering to both sides and incinerating everything it touched in its destructive wake. Those nearby screamed and scrambled to escape the expanding range of the magic.
Despite the overwhelming force, Ghislain pushed forward step by step.
Rrrrgh, rrgh, rrgh!
Each step closed the distance between him and Delmud.
“Damn it…”
Delmud realized that this attack alone would not be enough to stop him. He needed something stronger—far stronger.
‘This has to end in one strike.’
As he continued to hold Ghislain at bay with one hand, he began gathering mana in his other.
Whooooosh!
The seven rings encircling Delmud’s heart shone brightly, spinning more fiercely than ever.
The first ring revolved, drawing out mana from within him. The second ring amplified that mana twofold.
Each successive ring multiplied the power exponentially.
The final, seventh ring began spinning, and when there was no more mana left in his body to draw from, it started siphoning mana from the surrounding environment.
A quantity of mana so immense that even his heart struggled to endure it.
Drip…
Blood trickled from Delmud’s nose, ears, and mouth. His eyes were bloodshot, the vessels long since ruptured.
He, too, was risking his life, pushing himself beyond his limits.
Crack! Zzzzzzzt!
The space around him began to distort, destabilized by the relentless draw of mana into Delmud’s form.
Whoooosh!
In his empty hand, a mass of ultra-high-temperature flames began to coalesce—Inferno, the most destructive spell of the 7th-circle.
‘Not yet… not yet… it’s still not enough.’
He needed more mana. He had to make the spell even stronger.
Only then could he obliterate this demon of a man in a single blow.
Rumble… RUMBLE…
Even as Delmud focused on gathering his strength, Ghislain continued cutting through the beam of light, step by step.
‘Just a little more.’
Though slower than he wanted, he kept advancing. It was proof of how powerful Delmud’s magic truly was.
Even while launching such a devastating attack, Delmud was preparing another spell—clearly showing the caliber of a 7th-circle mage.
Not even Elois of the ducal family, another 7th-circle master, could unleash such an attack.
When it came to raw destructive force, the School of Flame’s magic was unmatched.
Ghislain, too, was drawing mana beyond his limits. Yet even he felt it wasn’t quite enough.
― “Master! Your mana consumption is too fast!”
Dark, his loyal companion, shouted urgently. But Ghislain merely bared his teeth in a wicked grin.
“Amplify my power even further.”
― “Master, at this rate, you’ll really die!”
“Hurry!”
― “I-it’s done! If you die, I don’t care anymore!”
Dark spoke the words, but deep down, it knew Ghislain couldn’t die. If Ghislain perished, it, too, would vanish without a trace. Left with no other choice, Dark decided it was better to pour in more power to finish things quickly.
Dark reluctantly began to tap into fragments of Ghislain’s emotions.
WHOOOSH!
The spark ignited a particular memory buried deep within—a memory steeped in one singular emotion.
Rage.
The emotion Ghislain had felt more than any other in his lifetime. That explosive anger now burned like a fire, consuming both his body and soul to fuel itself.
BOOM!
As Ghislain took another step forward, the ground beneath his foot cracked and shattered. His pace quickened.
RRRRRRRIP!
― “Master! Your muscles are tearing apart!”
― “Your bones are twisting and breaking!”
― “Damn it! How are you still walking?!”
Ghislain’s body was a wreck. His muscles and bones, unable to withstand the overwhelming force coursing through him, had deteriorated into a chaotic mess. Yet, he didn’t stop.
Kill.
He had to kill Delmud. This was an opportunity he couldn’t let slip. Killing Delmud here would make the war much easier.
That was the reasoning of a man still clinging to rationality.
But now? Ghislain’s mind was consumed by a single, overpowering thought: to kill the enemy before him.
It wasn’t hard. He had done it once before in his past life—split Delmud’s body in two from the crown of his head to the base.
The rage urged him on relentlessly. It screamed for him to kill Delmud again, just as he had back then.
BOOOOM!
Another step forward. His body had deteriorated to the point where he couldn’t even feel pain anymore.
But the aura blade radiating from his sword only grew sharper, its length extending further.
Delmud’s eyes widened as Ghislain closed the gap between them.
There was no more time to delay. Letting the Count of Fenris get any closer was too dangerous.
The mana Delmud had gathered would be enough. He had never amassed so much power in his life.
He, too, had pushed himself beyond his limits. Even if he won this battle, he’d likely be bedridden for months afterward.
“This is the end, you brat!”
Delmud wore a grin of exhilaration as he lowered the hand firing the beam and raised his other.
The ultra-high-temperature flames he unleashed would reduce his opponent to nothing but ash.
Shnk!
Before Inferno could even activate, something sliced through Delmud’s body, splitting it cleanly in two.
“Wha…?”
The last thing Delmud saw was Ghislain a short distance away, swinging his sword.
The dark crimson aura blade extending from the weapon had stretched to several meters long, cleaving Delmud’s body in half.
Piiiiiing!
The immense mana Delmud had gathered dispersed in all directions.
His bisected body, cleaved from crown to waist, was instantly consumed by the surrounding flames and reduced to ash.
At the same time, the dark crimson energy enveloping Ghislain began to fade away.
“……”
The onlookers were left speechless, stunned by what they had just witnessed.
For Ghislain and Delmud, the battle had felt long and arduous. But to everyone else, it had happened in an instant.
Delmud had cast his magic. Ghislain had broken through it and struck him down. That was all they had seen.
Such was the nature of a battle between superhumans. They fought with a sense of time and perception beyond ordinary comprehension.
Hubert trembled as he murmured.
“Th-this… he really… is a master…”
He had killed a 7th-circle mage alone. No matter how he managed it, only a true master could achieve such a feat.
The rumors of Ghislain being a master, once dismissed as mere hearsay, were now proven true.
The mages of the Scarlet Tower recoiled, retreating in fear.
“Th-the Tower Master is dead…”
“And at the hands of the Count of Fenris…”
“This has to be a nightmare…”
To them, Delmud had been the undisputed strongest in the North. They had scoffed at the claims that the Count of Fenris was the region’s greatest swordsman.
After all, there were only two 7th-circle mages in the entire kingdom, and there were only two people officially recognized as masters.
It was natural to believe Delmud was the strongest. But now, their mentor—the strongest among them—had fallen to the man once derided as “The Madman of the North.”
While the disciples of the Scarlet Tower fell into chaos, Ghislain pointed his sword at them and roared.
“Gillian!”
“Yes, my lord!”
“Kill them all.”
“At once!”
Clang!
Gillian grabbed his twin axes and charged forward, followed by the knights and soldiers of Fenris.
Bzzzt—!
The knights activated the magic circles on their armor as they ran, triggering dispel spells to counter their enemies—who were all mages.
“Huh? Wh-what…?”
The Scarlet Tower mages panicked as the knights rushed toward them.
They had come here expecting to annihilate their opponents, never imagining they would be the ones under attack.
The panic spread to the Crimson Tower mages as well. Hubert stammered, his voice trembling as Ghislain staggered toward him.
“W-wait… What’s happening here…?”
“AAAAARGH!”
Ghislain was about to answer, but then a piercing scream echoed through the air.
Despite the presence of two 5th-circle elders on the side of the Scarlet Tower, they couldn’t stop Gillian and the knights’ sudden assault.
This was because magic proved ineffective against the knights clad in Galvanium magic armor.
From the start, they were already disoriented and demoralized by the shock of the Tower Master’s death. They hadn’t even regained their composure by the time they were attacked.
While Gillian dealt with the two 5th-circle mages, the knights and soldiers efficiently slaughtered the mages of the Scarlet Tower.
“Ahhhh! Spare me!”
Watching the mages die miserably, Hubert asked again in a trembling voice.
“Count Fenris, w-what are you doing right now?”
Hubert felt dizzy. He had known Ghislain to be reckless, but he hadn’t expected him to openly commit a massacre like this.
Killing Delmud could be justified under the pretext of a duel, but there was no such justification for slaughtering the other mages.
Surely, mages from regions beyond the territory of the Crimson Flame Tower would protest to the Scarlet Tower. And the added bonus would be earning their enmity.
But Ghislain didn’t answer the question. No, he couldn’t answer.
“Cough! Let’s… talk later…”
He collapsed to the ground, coughing up blood.
His body was completely ruined. Even standing was now impossible.
“My Lord!”
Vanessa threw Alfoi aside and ran to Ghislain. Alfoi, now curled up tightly, lay sprawled on the ground.
She grabbed Ghislain and cried out.
“He needs treatment immediately!”
Hubert nodded frantically.
“Y-Yes! Let’s focus on treating him first!”
All the potions prepared in case of injuries during the duel were used on Ghislain.
Vanessa pried his mouth open and poured the potions in, while the mages hurriedly used clumsy healing spells on him.
However, Ghislain’s internal organs, bones, and muscles were all destroyed, making recovery far from easy.
‘This is… bad. He might die.’
He needed at least a trace of mana left in his body to attempt self-recovery, but there was none. He had exhausted every last bit of mana by forcibly amplifying his power.
It had been a long time since he’d sustained injuries this severe. A battle with a 7th-circle mage was truly grueling.
‘If I lose consciousness now, I might actually die.’
Even if he didn’t die, he could fall into a coma for an extended period. Ghislain weakly grabbed Vanessa’s wrist and spoke with difficulty.
“Keep… talking to me. Don’t let me fall asleep. If I lose consciousness, I might truly die.”
Vanessa nodded vigorously. She had to say anything to keep her lord awake.
‘W-What do I do? How should I do this?’
To avoid losing consciousness, he needed something to focus on. Something to concentrate his thoughts.
‘Ah! I have an idea!’
She immediately shared her flash of inspiration with Ghislain.
“My Lord! Listen to me and keep thinking about this! You must not fall asleep! Understood?”
“…Yes.”
“If chickens are four times as many as ducks, ducks are nine fewer than pigs, and the total number of ducks and pigs is 67, how many legs do all the animals have?”
“….”
Ghislain briefly looked at Vanessa with an expression of utter disbelief. The others nearby wore similar expressions.
Having given up on thinking, Ghislain simply closed his eyes and fainted.
“Ahhh! My Lord!”
Vanessa’s sharp cry of panic echoed through the air.
—
“The Tower Master… went to the Brivant Estate?”
Amelia’s question was met with a nod from Glenn, an elder of the Scarlet Tower.
He was currently in the Raypold Estate, seeking Amelia’s support.
“Yes, to destroy the Crimson Flame Tower.”
“The Count of Brivant and the Royal Faction won’t stand idly by, though.”
Glenn chuckled.
“Of course, they’ll pressure us in various ways and impose restrictions, but they won’t be able to act immediately. They’ll likely start with an investigation. All we have to do is stall for time.”
“Ah, so the plan is just to hold out until the civil war breaks out?”
“Exactly. However, to hold out until then, we’ll need substantial funds and food. Most of our transactions will be halted.”
“Hmm… So, you expect me to provide those for you?”
Glenn nodded.
“Miss, you’ve already taken control here. According to our agreement, you’re obligated to support us in place of Count Desmond.”
Amelia, now the lord of the Raypold Estate and its Countess, was still addressed as “Miss” by Glenn—a clear sign of his disregard for her.
Unbothered by the term, Amelia smiled faintly and asked another question.
“Is there really a need to act so hastily? It will only alert the enemies unnecessarily.”
“Have you forgotten the Duke’s order to finish off the Crimson Flame Tower before the civil war begins? The Crimson Flame Tower has many mages. If they side with the Royalist lords, they’ll be a significant threat.”
Amelia nodded a few times in understanding, then suddenly asked something unrelated.
“By the way, where do you think the Tower Master is now? Has he arrived?”
“He should have reached the Brivant Estate by now.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yes, we calculated all the timings and planned accordingly. So, you must support us as soon as possible.”
“All right, then we should begin too.”
“Pardon? What do you mean? Oh, you mean you’ll provide the support immediately?”
Glenn smiled brightly as he spoke, but Amelia glanced at him and continued.
“No, I meant I’ll deal with the filthy beggars who pester me for money every day.”
A cold smile spread across her face.