Chapter 230 – Turning Point (3)
The heat and light drew near.
Standing still and gazing at the meteor, the Administrator invoked the intuition of the Demon King.Within a flow where a single second splintered into dozens, he analyzed the magic.
'A destructive spell, composed solely of magic power.'
It bore no attribute of any element.
Yet, it was difficult to categorize as a type of manipulation like
The Administrator sharpened his sight.
Then, he perceived the gray light forming the meteor's foundation, a pattern like constellations.
In other words, since it was an attribute that had not previously existed, it must be Mado, and that sphere of magic power clearly originated from such Mado.
'So he was concealing his true power against me.'
Eyes engraved with magic circles.
And an unknown Mado besides.
The Administrator twisted his lips.
It was both insolent and amusing. Who would dare conceal their means before the Demon King? So strange, it even felt refreshing.
But that was all.
The Administrator raised his right arm.
The meteor clashed against his palm, the space shuddered. Without hesitation, he grasped it in his fist. In an instant, his magic power infiltrated the meteor's core.
Then, with a twist of his wrist, the meteor shattered to pieces and collapsed.
────!
Flashes and explosions followed in its wake, but none of it touched the Administrator.
Even without a barrier, for the creator of
At that moment, Verden burst forth through the light.
He had aimed for the time needed to regenerate the barrier. Dozens of stone fragments formed around him and rained down indiscriminately.
"A mage charging at the Demon King, that's a first."
Fwoooosh!
The shockwave born from the Administrator's release of magic power shattered the fragments. Verden immediately activated his Mystic Eyes.
The shattered fragments reassembled.
They turned into countless small stone spikes that surged toward the Administrator again. Spell-chaining that happened faster than a blink.
Before long, Verden had reached the Administrator's side.
The white staff pulsed.
A concentration of magic so intense it sent chills. When the Administrator struck down his staff, the impact alone crushed the magic.
Verden swung Orient, its blade charged with focused magic power. A shockwave layered with gravity roared forward.
Kwoooooom!
Their staves collided.
Clang. Ka-clang. The metal shrieked ceaselessly. Pain surged as though his arm might snap. All Verden could do was hold his stance against collapse, yet he did not falter.
From the moment he shattered the barrier until now,
he had predicted the Administrator's every move, and events had unfolded just as he anticipated.
Now, there was no wall between them.
The chaos spell that had defeated the Black-Boned Viola, the Black Magus.
A dark-blue wave surged out from Verden, swallowing the Administrator and the surrounding space. The pressure felt through Orient vanished.
When the light cleared, it was Verden who stood where the Administrator had been.
Despite the impact, neither the Gray Throne nor the chamber of the Administrator had shifted in the slightest. Durability beyond comprehension.
Verden turned his gaze aside.
Roughly thirty steps away, the white mage floated at the same eye level.
The Administrator glanced at his left hand.
There was no wound, but his sleeve was singed. With a dry laugh of disbelief, he spoke.
"Since long ago, magicians who sought to influence the magical world have refined Mado into spells others could wield, thus creating countless new magics. In this way, mages acquired diversity beyond what once existed, and thus the magical world progressed."
"..."
"Yet that spell just now, reminiscent of a falling star, though it clearly stemmed from Mado, bore no trace of refinement. Surely you have not pioneered a Mado of your own."
It was as if he had inherited another's Mado intact.
Even scouring the Demon King's memories, no such case existed.
"And your final spell combined lightning, flame, and gravity attributes. Extracting only the traits of each and weaving them together. That should be impossible with mere composite spell formulas. I suspect some kind of artifact."
Only once.
Merely glimpsing a hidden card, the Administrator had already grasped its principle. Unfathomable comprehension and insight.
The Administrator gestured toward his eyes.
"And those eyes. Not only do they conjure magic at a distance, but even omit the calculations. My true body has seen many with strange eyes, but never one like yours."
Strange eyes?
"…There are others with such eyes?"
"As you know, there are many with special gifts in this world, and among them, some bear unusual eyes. But none ever bore eyes that defied law as yours do. It does not seem to be a peculiar trait, then, what do you call it?"
"For now, I named it the Mystic Eye."
"Mystic Eye, an eye of magic power, fitting and intuitive."
The Administrator nodded and continued.
"By principle, an Administrator must repel intruders with efficiency. No matter how great the true body, a clone cannot exist forever. I cannot waste magic endlessly. Thus, I have always abided by that principle in my duty."
But,
"Even if I am but the Demon King's clone, you, a mage, managed to reach me. Even if it was no more than a blemish on my robe. Therefore, as the true body's will desires, I too shall display the power of the Demon King."
The Administrator brushed his sleeve.
The scorch returned to pristine form. A clone's appearance was but magic woven into semblance.
"…!"
At the same time, his aura shifted completely.
Where it had been oppressive and violent, now it was chilling enough to raise gooseflesh.
The magic surging from the Administrator had changed.
Like his eyes, it was a blend of tranquil blue and radiant gold.
Verden clenched his jaw.
His grip on Orient tightened instinctively.
'At last, it comes.'
Oldarc Ruin Arkenad.
Beneath his title of Demon King flows a river of blood, the remnants of those who once opposed him.
None had dared resist.
He stood at the summit of elemental magic.
Before he was ever called Demon King, the world had named him thus—
the living natural disaster, the Magus of Cataclysm, Heaven's Calamity.
His elements were as devastating as nature itself.
The Administrator lifted his left arm.
His staff leveled squarely at the challenger.
Verden crouched lower, sharpening his focus.
He could not move rashly. He must not attempt to preempt, but respond precisely to the Administrator's spell. A single misstep would mean death.
The air gradually boiled.
The instant a needle-like sting pierced his nerves,
< Hellfire >
A cone of 7th-tier flame surged forth, burning the very space.
***
At nine years old, while working as a porter at the Magic Tower, Rovellin gifted him two books.
Both were about the Demon King, one a picture-laden fairy tale, the other a history text crammed with words.
Already enamored with magic, Verden found the history book far more captivating than the fairy tale, and whenever he found time—whether resting or before sleep—he read it bit by bit.
As the days passed, Verden learned little by little about the being known as the Demon King. He imprinted in his mind the great feats he had achieved, and the magnificent legends he had built.
When he finished reading the book once through, Verden thought,
───I want to become a mage like the Demon King.
It was a childish dream.
A dream far beyond the reach of a child who might not even become a decent mage. Yet at the time, it brought him happiness in its own way.
Every night before he slept, Verden wished,
to dream of becoming the mage he so desperately longed to be. Among those wishes was even the absurd hope of meeting the Demon King himself.
A small desire, to hear of his great life directly.
But now,
'Indeed, dream and reality are different.'
Kwagwagwagwang!
Behind Verden, who was flying, a chain of explosions erupted.
He twisted sharply in reverse and flipped his body. Planting his feet on the ceiling, he saw a storm of stone and rock erupt upward from below.
Throb.
Verden's Mystic Eye gleamed.
Temporarily distorting gravity, he unraveled the spell.
Immediately after, he activated
Raising wind to slow his momentum, Verden landed on the ground.
"Your movement was free of excess, young mage. I wonder how you will respond to this spell."
Atop the staircase, upon the Gray Throne.
The Administrator, restored to his place, lifted his staff high. Above his head, a small sun formed. Scarlet light filled the chamber, surging toward Verden.
He faltered before the oncoming heat.
Cold sweat evaporated, his hair bristled. Even a graze would mean instant death, even the shockwave alone would inflict grievous wounds.
'So this is as far as I can endure with my body alone.'
Mage's Regret.
The light of magic power enveloped Verden.
Elemental resistance, magic resistance, physical resistance.
He maximized his defenses with imbue magic.
Though he had saved them as much as possible due to their time limits, now he had no choice. As he struck the floor, he layered a barrier from the Center of the Three Primary Colors, granting resistance to both physical force and flame.
───Kwaaaaaaaang!
The meteor struck.
A blazing shockwave engulfed him.
"Chh…!"
The barrier shattered.
The automatically regenerated mana barrier broke apart as well. Verden barely managed to stop himself after being flung back. Amid black smoke, his vision shook, and a ringing filled his ears.
It felt as if his organs were twisted out of place.
Bile surged to his throat, then slowly subsided.
'Even so, this is the best result I could have hoped for.'
A little more, and not even his corpse would remain.
Indeed, the gap in equipment was vast.
Yet thanks to the combination of the Mystic Eye and Verden's own computational speed, the Administrator, who wielded high-tier magic, could not fully dominate him.
Looking at the overall situation, Verden was holding his own.
'This is worth trying.'
The Administrator's presence weakened.
Through the exchange, he had consumed no small amount of magic power. Since he was a clone sustained by magic, Verden could sense it clearly.
This was a battle of whittling away the enemy's magic power, nullifying the spells' might wherever possible, and enduring those he could not evade with his own body—a high-wire act of magic combat.
One mistake meant the end, yet for Verden, it was the method with the highest chance of victory.
"Yes, a thorough war of attrition. Indeed, that must be your best option. And such a method is possible only for one such as you. Your adaptability and judgment just now were excellent."
The Administrator drew back his arm.
"In that case, how about this?"
From the arc traced by his staff, a violet blade flew forth.
A destructive spell boasting absolute physical annihilation among spatial magic. A dreadful sharpness that could cleave even the soul.
'I must dodge this no matter what.'
Blocking was out of the question.
Anything struck by it, whether spell or substance, would be cut apart.
Verden twisted his body acrobatically to evade the blade.
Just as he began to feel relief, he sensed magic both ahead and behind. A violet rift tore open in the air. From within it, the Severance reappeared before Verden.
'Spatial teleportation…?!'
It was beyond the realm of sensory prediction.
Instinctively, he wrenched his body aside. The forced motion made his flesh scream.
Shhhhhhht!
Agony as if his waist had been cleaved apart.
Verden plummeted downward, staggering to regain balance. Mage's Regret split open, blood trailing down from his side, dripping off his legs.
"Khk…"
Not fatal, but the bleeding was severe.
Cauterizing with fire was impossible due to his equipment. Deciding quickly, Verden summoned cold to freeze the wound shut.
From recognizing the injury to applying first aid, about three seconds passed. A short time, yet for the strong, even that was long.
Verden turned his head.
Step, step.
The Administrator descended the stairs.
Though his presence diminished further from using spatial magic, one of the highest attributes, he still seemed to have ample reserves.
"Was that not your chance?"
"As you know, spatial magic inflicts immense backlash on the caster. That is why it is usually realized through magical tools, artifacts, or magic circles. Were I the true body, there would be no consequence, but as a clone, the burden is great."
The Administrator reached the bottom of the stairs.
"Of course, as an Administrator I might have forced it to eliminate you. Yet as this battle drags on, the will of the Demon King whispers within my foundation. Not as Administrator, but as Demon King, I must face you. It seems you have stirred him."
"..."
"And so, I cannot help but obey. It is an instinct a clone cannot resist. For what the Demon King desires, inevitably becomes what I desire."
Thud.
The floor quaked.
"Young mage, you must still have something hidden. Then show it. If you do not wish only futility to remain after death."
It was sheer arrogance.
Yet it was convincing. Before his eyes stood one of the few great beings to whom such arrogance was permitted.
Verden drew a deep breath.
'It seems maintaining this war of attrition is no longer possible.'
The fact that the Administrator had descended meant as much.
So now, he had no choice but to exchange his last trump card for a prepared alternative.
With resolve hardened, Verden's eyes gleamed.
He charged toward the Administrator, gripping Orient with both hands.
From long-range to close-quarters.
Death pressed against his throat, but such recklessness was necessary.
To kill the Administrator.