Chapter 75

Everyone gathered in the grand training hall suddenly rose to their feet.

And then—

From afar, an old man with a bent back appeared.

Though his body was frail and gaunt, he possessed a presence so commanding that he alone overshadowed everyone present.

He was Norgu, the Nogaju.

---

A heavy silence fell over the hall.

Norgu didn’t radiate any overt energy, yet an overwhelming pressure, like a swirling storm, pressed down on the entire training ground.

Not a single disciple dared even to swallow.

Only the sharp tapping of Norgu’s cane echoed through the space.

“Heh heh, why are you all so tense? This old man is merely here to see how well his grandchildren have grown,” Norgu chuckled.

Still, not a single person dared to sit back down.

“Lord Nogaju,” Marquis Langham hurriedly descended from the podium and knelt before the old man.

Norgu looked down at his kneeling son with an inscrutable gaze before speaking.

“Rise, Marquis. This old man has already entrusted you with full authority. There’s no need to treat me with such reverence. How can you properly lead the Dark Maga if you keep tiptoeing around me like this?”

Christian’s eyes snapped wide open.

That was a cutting remark.

‘Nogaju dislikes Marquis Langham.’

The reason Langham hadn’t ascended to the head of the family was because of Norgu’s decision.

And the reason was simple.

Langham hadn’t reached the 8th rank.

He was stuck at the upper 7th rank.

For over ten years, he hadn’t broken through that barrier.

He had essentially hit his limit.

So Norgu declared he would skip a generation and pass the family headship to the next in line, bypassing Langham.

‘It’s not an unreasonable decision. Among the twelve great mage families, no head has ever failed to reach the 8th rank.’

No wonder the atmosphere between them was icy.

From Norgu’s perspective, Langham was a son who had disappointed him.

From Langham’s perspective, Norgu was the one who shattered his lifelong dream.

“Enough. Rise, Marquis.”

“…Yes, understood.”

“And tell the others to sit as well.”

“…Everyone, please take your seats!”

The commotion settled, and Norgu took a seat not in the head’s place, but among the elders.

He made it clear he was here only as an observer.

Marquis Langham’s wife, Fresia, secretly exhaled in relief.

‘That old monster interfering would have been a disaster. Thank goodness.’

The content of the competition varied each time, but Fresia’s influence over the internal affairs of the Dark Maga was strong.

She had chosen the theme most favorable to Maysak.

Destructive Dark Magic.

Maysak’s greatest specialty.

‘Especially since Christian hasn’t made any progress in destructive dark magic over the past three months.’

Christian’s instructor in destructive dark magic was one of Fresia’s loyal subordinates from the Destructive Maga, and had refused to teach him anything.

‘Not just destructive dark magic. The other sub-themes were also chosen to focus on areas where Christian had failed to make any real achievements. He’s going to be utterly humiliated in front of the head.’

Just as Fresia’s lips curled into a satisfied smile—

Something unexpected happened.

“Marquis, what is the format of this competition?”

Norgu asked.

“It will be a demonstration by the heirs on various topics, including destructive dark magic,” Langham replied.

“Hmm.”

Norgu made an unreadable expression.

“It’s the same as the Union’s method. How can you truly gauge skill with such a clownish display?”

“!!”

“Oh, I’m not criticizing. I’m merely here to observe. I’m sure the Marquis has his reasons for choosing this format. Don’t mind this old man and proceed as you planned.”

The hall fell silent.

Who could possibly continue as planned after hearing that?

Fresia’s face turned pale.

Her clenched fists trembled.

‘Damn old man. Why does he have to meddle unnecessarily?’

Meanwhile, Christian’s expression showed surprise.

‘Did he intervene because of me? No way.’

If the competition proceeded as Fresia had arranged, Christian would inevitably be at a disadvantage.

No matter how much of a genius he was, he couldn’t match Maysak’s mastery after over ten years of training in destructive dark magic.

“……”

After a brief silence, Marquis Langham spoke.

“We will change the format of the competition.”

“Hmm?”

“I was mistaken. Instead of demonstrations, the heirs will duel. There’s no better way to truly assess their achievements than through combat.”

Norgu nodded indifferently.

His expression clearly showed displeasure with Langham.

Langham addressed the heirs standing by.

“The dueling pairs will be: First Heiress Yurian versus Third Heir Maysak, and Second Heiress Jupien versus Fourth Heir Christian. Everyone in the family will be watching, so regardless of the outcome, give it your all.”

The matchups were arranged by skill level.

Yurian and Maysak were close in age, and Jupien and Christian were similarly matched.

But Fresia and Maysak’s faces drained of color.

‘No!’

The skill gap between First Heiress Yurian and Third Heir Maysak was obvious. Maysak had no chance of winning.

He would only suffer humiliation.

This was not the outcome they wanted.

But they had no grounds to protest.

Norgu was watching personally.

‘Damn it, why does that old man have to be like this?’

Fresia ground her teeth.

Then, an unexpected shout rang out across the hall.

“I object!”

“!!”

It was Christian!

“…Object? What do you mean?”

Langham asked coldly.

Christian smiled slyly and glanced toward Norgu.

Norgu was looking at Christian as well.

Their gazes met across the distance.

Seeing the interest in Norgu’s eyes, Christian understood what the old man expected of him.

“I request to change my opponent.”

“What?”

“Allow me to duel Maysak.”

“!!”

The hall buzzed with surprise.

The skill gap between Maysak and Christian was vast.

A difference between the 4th and 3rd ranks.

Yet Christian spoke boldly.

“I know I’m lacking. But isn’t it the way of a true disciple to challenge those stronger than oneself?”

‘This is the test Norgu has set for me,’ Christian thought.

Norgu hadn’t intervened out of kindness.

On the contrary.

He had given Christian a far more difficult task.

To defeat Maysak in combat.

Far harder than simply outperforming him in a demonstration.

But Christian accepted Norgu’s intention.

Because it was exactly what he wanted.

This time, he would make Maysak kneel before him in utter defeat.

“You…”

Langham frowned.

“Allow the boy’s request,” Norgu said.

Was it just his imagination?

There was a hint of satisfaction in his voice.

“The boy’s request is not wrong, is it? A disciple should have the courage to challenge those stronger than themselves.”

“!!”

Everyone in the hall widened their eyes at Norgu’s words.

It was rare for him to speak so favorably of someone else.

But then Norgu’s expression shifted.

“However, the responsibility for this reckless challenge lies with you. Christian, are you prepared to accept the consequences of your audacity?”

His tone was stern.

Duels among disciples were different from those in the Union.

They often resulted in serious injury or even death.

“Of course, Lord Nogaju. More than anything…”

Christian’s lips curled into a confident smile.

“We’ll just have to see who ends up kneeling.”

“!!”

Maysak’s face flushed bright red.

He clenched his teeth, unable to say a word in front of Norgu.

Norgu chuckled softly.

“You still talk big. Let’s see if your confidence is more than just words. Marquis, proceed with the duels.”

“…Understood. Heiresses Yurian and Jupien, please step forward.”

The first duel was between the two heiresses.

Unexpectedly, Yurian’s main weapon was a bow.

And not just any bow—she was a marksman with unerring accuracy.

‘She really does seem like an elf.’

Christian crossed his arms, watching their duel closely.

It wasn’t just that she was a skilled archer.

Elves had a distinctive habit when shooting bows.

Yurian’s stance wasn’t identical, but there were subtle similarities.

Perhaps that was why her movements reminded him of elves, and the atmosphere she gave off was similar.

‘Did she learn her archery from the Dark Elves, the Obsidian Wraiths?’

The skill gap was so large that the duel quickly became one-sided.

Yurian used various dark magic spells to keep Jupien at bay while gaining the upper hand with her bow.

But surprisingly, it was not Yurian who captured everyone’s attention—it was Jupien.

“…I won’t lose.”

Jupien, blocking arrows with her sword, suddenly stopped.

She sensed that if she continued like this, she would only be toyed with and eventually defeated.

Ignoring defense, she charged straight at Yurian.

“It’s useless.”

Thwack!

An arrow pierced Jupien’s shoulder.

Her small body shook as if struck by lightning.

Still, gritting her teeth, Jupien refused to stop.

Yurian’s expression softened with pity.

“Just give up, little sister. You don’t stand a chance.”

Thwack! Thwack!

Arrows kept piercing her small frame.

Contrary to her gentle appearance, Yurian didn’t stop her assault.

Arrows relentlessly struck vital points—heart, throat, philtrum—without pause.

Jupien dodged only those aimed at life-threatening spots, inching closer to Yurian.

Her body trembling, soaked in blood.

Breathing heavily.

Yet her eyes burned with fierce determination.

At last, the distance between them closed.

Blood dripping, Jupien murmured, “I won’t lose. I swear it on my father’s honor.”

Her father had been a noble mage who died fighting the allied forces.

Jupien was determined to carry on his name.

Whoosh!

Jupien’s vision technique, the Splitting Sword, unfolded.

Sixteen blades, just like before.

But this time, they were different.

Each sword seemed alive, moving with a will of its own.

—Separate illusion from self.

For the past three months, Jupien had clung to the clue Chris gave her, reaching a new level.

She was now close to the fourth rank of illusion magic.

At this stage, illusions move vividly, as if they possess their own consciousness.

Each of the sixteen splitting swords flew as if wielded by a different swordsman, striking like real sword blows.

“When did Lady Jupien reach that level?”

“That’s not the usual rank three, is it?”