Episode 55
The world of Sephia, a 6th-circle elf mage, unfurled beneath her feet.
It was a realm of mages, a separate dimension that blocked any interference from the outside world—a death arena from which no one could escape until one of them perished.
An endless expanse of icy wasteland stretched out, shimmering with a crystalline hue.
In response, Walter the Fiery Blood, a 6th-circle dark mage, revealed his own world. Behind him, the landscape of his mind materialized.
“An operating ward…?”
No, that wasn’t it. Dale stepped back, momentarily holding his breath.
The scene was filled with hospital beds, patients, chains binding them, and all manner of horrific instruments. Screams echoed from every direction. They weren’t cries for help; they were desperate pleas for death.
It became clear soon enough. This was no healing ward.
Walter, the elder of the Red Tower, leader of the infamous Black Red Brigade’s 6th Division. His world was the laboratory of that very brigade, the one he commanded.
A dark mage’s laboratory for human experimentation.
A symbol of cruelty, where the pursuit of “power and truth” had long since abandoned any semblance of humanity. A living hell where unspeakable experiments were conducted on living captives.
“Do you know why they call me ‘Fiery Blood’?”
Walter asked, standing before the laboratory of the Black Red Brigade. Sephia didn’t answer, only letting the blue currents of her magic swirl across the crystalline wasteland.
“When you heat a living person’s blood to its boiling point… do you know what happens to their body?”
Walter inquired. The term “test subject” made Dale’s expression darken.
”…”
“How many captives do you think were sacrificed to perfect the optimal explosive formula for killing?”
Walter asked, as countless “test subjects” behind him were consumed by flames.
Each subject was burned with varying intensities of fire, to determine the most efficient lethal flame. The thought was nauseating.
“Do you know how to mix the formula for bolt magic to achieve maximum efficiency with minimal resources?”
How many captives suffered horrific fates in the Black Red Brigade’s laboratory, all in the name of academic exploration and collaboration among mages?
“Do you know the optimal distance and explosion needed for maximum lethality?”
Though this was merely a projection of Walter’s mind, there was no need to question its origins.
“Progress is directly tied to the amount of blood spilled, and the wheels of history turn only through blood.”
Walter spoke, his words a testament to his unwavering, mad conviction. A demon in human guise stood there.
“I understand now.”
Sephia finally nodded in response to Walter’s words.
“That you’re nothing but irredeemable trash.”
“What is it that you understand?”
Walter asked.
“To repeatedly test hypotheses and build a tower of wisdom on empirical results—isn’t that the essence of a mage’s pursuit of truth? How can the Blue Tower, which fears blood in the face of a greater cause, ever comprehend our spirit?”
Walter’s question was met with Sephia’s silence.
“Do you think there’s any progress in this world that can be achieved without bloodshed?”
“Truly, the depths of your depravity are unfathomable.”
After a moment of silence, Sephia spoke, unleashing the power of a 6th-circle elf mage against the irredeemable beast before her.
At that moment, Dale stepped in front of Sephia.
“Dale, step back…!”
Sephia shouted in alarm, but Dale shook his head.
“No, I can’t do that.”
His shadow cloak billowed, confronting the ideological world of the Red Tower’s elder.
The world a high mage projects is a reflection of their life, a landscape of their mind. And that hellish scene was the very essence of Walter the Fiery Blood, leader of the Black Red Brigade.
The ideology of the Red Tower, which believed power was the ultimate value, and that the blood spilled in its pursuit was merely a sacrifice for a greater cause.
The endless cries of the test subjects, begging for death amidst their hellish torment, gripped Dale’s heart with unforgettable hatred.
He could never forgive the Red Tower and the Empire.
“It’s not just my master who can’t forgive that man.”
“Hah, a mere 3rd-circle novice dares to challenge me, the Fiery Blood?”
Walter scoffed at the dark blue magic swirling at Dale’s feet.
“Just because you have a bit of talent, you think you can reach the heavens?”
To Walter, a 6th-circle mage and elder of the Red Tower, Dale was just a 3rd-circle mage, and the gap in their power was undeniable. At least, for an ordinary 3rd-circle mage, that would be true.
“You’ll regret your foolishness in the fires of hell!”
Walter unleashed a torrent of blood-red magic from his six circles. Simultaneously, countless test subjects were released from their chains.
“Blood, blood, nothing but blood!”
Freed from their restraints, the innumerable test subjects began to charge. A horde of people, engulfed in flames, rushed at Dale and Sephia like a swarm of zombies.
“The wheels of this world turn only through the shedding of blood!”
The world a high mage projects is not a mere illusion without substance.
──Sephia, the 6th-circle elf mage, was no exception.
The endless expanse of crystalline wasteland finally began to move.
Crack, crack.
The icy ground split apart, unleashing an immeasurable storm of cold.
“Hah, do you think you can stop the wheels of blood with just that?”
Walter snapped his fingers, and the bodies of the test subjects exploded. Treating them as living bombs, their blood scattered with the explosion.
To Walter, “blood” was merely a tool to turn the wheels of the world, and that very blood was consuming Sephia’s world. The fiery blood, symbolizing his moniker, Fiery Blood.
“Resonate.”
But Sephia snapped her fingers, standing against the crystalline horizon.
A clear, unsettling harmony echoed. Particles of blue magic began to scatter in all directions.
《Blue Dissonance》.
“The web of dissonance.”
Simultaneously, the scattered particles of “Blue Dissonance” began to weave blue threads like a spider’s web. The fiery blood, surging like a wave, was effortlessly extinguished by the blue web.
In that instant, Dale moved. His shadow cloak billowed, and a wave of darkness surged like a flood, engulfing the area.
The power he gained that day, after defeating the Orc Warboss.
The boundary where the worlds of the two high mages met was swallowed by a lake of darkness. From beneath the rippling dark lake, the “Shadow Lurkers” began to emerge in silence.
《Shadow Lurker》.
”…!”
Walter gasped at the sight. As he had said, a mere 3rd-circle mage couldn’t possibly stand against a 6th-circle mage.
But Dale was no ordinary 3rd-circle mage, and Walter’s opponent was not Dale alone.
“Be careful, Dale.”
“With such a reliable master watching my back, what is there to worry about?”
Dale replied with a feigned smile to Sephia’s words. A blue mage’s specialty isn’t direct combat. It’s about nullifying and countering the opponent’s magic, specializing in defense and support.
And that very blue mage, a 6th-circle elf mage, was guarding Dale’s back. What more reliable support could there be in the world?
As the area was submerged in a lake of darkness, Dale launched himself forward. Into the hellish scene reminiscent of an operating ward, into the world Walter the Fiery Blood had created.
“A mere novice dares…!”
Walter roared at the sight.
“Burn…!”
The six circles whirled, and a storm of blood-red magic began to rage. An overwhelming barrage of firepower, like a missile strike, rained down on Dale.
Yet despite the missile barrage pouring down from above, Dale’s movements showed no hesitation.
“Flare.”
From behind him, Sephia’s voice rang out.
The missiles that should have been aimed directly at Dale suddenly veered off course, drawn inexplicably toward the blue particles swirling around Sepia. It was as if they were being lured by flares meant to confuse heat-seeking missiles.
As the distance closed, the dark lake began to expand rapidly.
When a mage unfolds their realm of thought, it signifies their territory, and no shadowy cloak can easily overlay darkness upon it. However, if one dares to tread upon an enemy’s land, the story changes.
Dale charged unhesitatingly into the realm of thought that the Blood Mage Walter had unfurled.
With each step, the domain of the shadowy lake expanded beneath Dale’s feet.
“Protect me, my slaves!”
In the bio-laboratory of the Black Sect, endless test subjects, born from experiments, rushed at Dale, begging for death, engulfed in flames. Yet, they were merely figments of Walter’s imagination, not living beings.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Dale summoned the blade of the “Shadow Cloak.” A storm of blades, uncharacteristic of a mage, tore through the test subjects, their bodies shattering into pieces. Immediately after, the bodies exploded, attempting to engulf Dale.
Or rather, they tried to.
“Blue Quarantine.”
Sepia whispered, and the explosion meant to consume Dale was trapped within an unknown blue cube.
A magical prison.
‘She precisely isolated the coordinates to quarantine the entire attack.’
She had accurately designated the explosion’s range, isolating the attack that should have reached Dale.
“You damned blue witch…!”
The elder of the Blue Tower, a sixth-circle elf mage, was no mere title.
The distance closed again, and Walter’s world was finally submerged in the dark lake. The spiny tendrils of the lurking “Shadow Lurkers” emerged all at once.
Walter erected a wall of flames to fend off the onslaught of spiny tendrils. He was not one to be easily overwhelmed, as he had once faced an “Orc Warboss.”
Yet, nothing changed.
“Where is the optimal formula for killing?”
“Don’t make me laugh, you damned brat!”
Dale retorted coldly. Walter, in a frenzy, unleashed a barrage of firepower. It was a hellfire missile strike in all but name, yet none of it reached Dale.
“Reassignment of Quarantine Zone.”
Magical isolation. It was a prison of magic, a blue mage’s art that severed the interaction of the opponent’s magic. It wasn’t a simple ice or water attribute spell.
As a high-ranking blue mage, she was binding the opponent’s magic itself. Moreover, she hadn’t even begun to wield her “realm of thought” as a weapon. Though she focused on covering Dale, the difference in their levels was clear.
An elf mage.
Not all sixth-circle mages are equal. Especially when comparing elves, known as the “race loved by mana,” to humans.
Only then did it become clear. Walter was nothing more than a fly caught in Sepia’s web.
In the darkness consuming Walter’s world, the spiny tendrils of the Shadow Lurkers began to lash out.
The outcome of a duel between a knight and a mage often hinges on the moment distance is allowed.
Moreover, Dale’s prowess as a swordsman was beyond that of a mere aura knight, and even if Walter was a sixth-circle mage, it made no difference.
Yet, against such a formidable enemy mage, even Dale couldn’t easily close the distance. It was only possible with Sepia’s support, and once the distance was closed, the outcome was inevitable.
“No, don’t come any closer…!”
The “Black Prince” stood before him.
The conclusion of “when a mage allows a knight to close the distance” unfolded right there.
The mage was too busy fending off the spiny tendrils of the Shadow Lurkers, and Dale seized the opportunity. The “Shadow Blade” swung down upon Walter.
Slicing through flesh, blood sprayed.
“Aaaah!”
Walter screamed, and Dale tilted his head, puzzled.
“Why are you screaming?”
The “Shadow Blade” swung again, and blood splattered from Walter’s body. The unbearable pain echoed in his cries.
“Isn’t this the ‘progress through blood’ you spoke of?”
Amidst the screams, Dale asked calmly.
“You said the wheel of history turns only through blood.”
Once more, the shadow blade swung mercilessly, blood splattering. It wasn’t a simple killing blow, but a cruel malice wielded with the intent to inflict pain.
“Shouldn’t you be rejoicing as the ‘wheel of history’ turns with your blood?”
“A-ah…”
Without a hint of emotion, Dale asked, forgetting even the presence of Sepia watching from behind.
The shadow blade lashed out again at Walter, who was groaning and pleading in pain. Countless lines of blood were drawn, over and over, like a child scribbling with a blood-red crayon on a sketchbook.
“P-please…”
Walter muttered weakly in agony.
“Kill me…”
Blood flowed, and flowed again.
But an easy death did not come for the Blood Mage Walter. The wheel of history continued to turn endlessly, and Dale sneered at the sight.
“A wheel that can only turn through the sacrifice and blood of the innocent is better off broken.”
The destroyer of the wheel spoke.
Denying the elder of the Red Tower before him, and the very spirit of the Red Tower and the Empire.
With a final slash, the spiny tendril of a Shadow Lurker pierced through his chest.
The shadowy tendril split apart, shredding his body like a grinder.
Before the slaughter of the Shadow Lurker, Sepia could only remain in bitter silence.
Walter’s body was torn to pieces and scattered, and his world finally vanished.
What remained was a crystalline wasteland, stained crimson with blood.