Chapter 209: 8th Circle Magic Swordsman Kyre

Translator: Lei

Proofreader: Enigami

‘D-Damn!’

The battle was so insane that nothing would have saved us had I come even a little late. The many 1st Circle Light spells being lit and various spells up to the 7th Circle shed light on the shocking spectacles that were the sky and earth, which were crowded with so many enemies that it was impossible to tell where the battlefield ended. Monster corpses had accumulated in massive piles, over which the soulless soldiers of Altakas trampled in their advance. And in front of me were thousands of Death Wyverns that had come within range.

“Holy Shout!”

As soon as they appeared, the paladins sized up the situation and cast large-scale purification magic.

‘You jerks, y’all are quite something.’

They regrouped quickly, despite having just experienced what was likely the first teleportation magic in their lives. What’s more, the spell hadn’t just been on an individual scale, but en masse.

Even an 8th Circle mage like myself couldn’t teleport hundreds of wyverns simultaneously. It was impossible even with the Grade 1 magic crystal in Nerman Castle. However, I had a 9th Circle magic item with me. Its power went beyond the realm of human thought. With it, the simultaneous teleportation of hundreds of wyverns was possible.

The paladins who had been lifting into the air at my command were forced to appear in the skies above the border fort. In order to save themselves, they cast their holy magic on the Death Wyverns they suddenly found themselves facing. The Death Wyverns and Death Skyknights screwed their eyes shut at the powerful sacred light of Holy Shout. The Skyknights covered their eyes with their hands while the wyverns staggered in the air.

Krrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Kigiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii.

“All-out attack!”

“Charge!!!!”

The Skyknights on our side knew an opportunity when they saw one. Thousands of wyverns charged at the enemies that were screaming with closed eyes, burned by the radiant glow the paladins produced in unison.

‘It’s already come down to a melee fight…’

I had wanted to avoid a melee fight, but there wasn’t enough time to cast magic. The wyverns in the front were already in the firing range of the enemies by the time I came.

Fwip fwip fwip fwip fwip fwip.

The brave souls of the Kallian Continent flowed across the vast sky like a wave of knights charging on horses over the plains. Their mana-imbued spears cut through the air like stars falling from the sky.

Ba-ba-ba-ba-bam. Kugaaaaaaaa.

A chorus of screams and impacts came shortly afterward. There was no time for me to step in.

‘Hang on for a little bit.’

Gritting my teeth, I gazed at Nerman’s splendid Skyknights in the vanguard, the paladins, and the troops from the Bajran Empire and Kingdom Coalition.

Craaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaash!

My head turned towards the massive, heaven-shaking explosion.

‘Altakas…’

In the stretch of sky precisely between the fort gates and the Dark Army, spells of at least the 7th Circle clashed, creating an enormous mana wave.

“KUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

Altakas’ unpleasant laugh grated in my ears.

“What’s so fucking funny, you black piece of rat shit?!” Enraged, Master Bumdalf let out a furious shout full of mana. “Have a taste of this!”

Flash!

The fully powered mana of an 8th Circle mage surged out.

Swoooooosh. BOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

Another massive mana collision burst out.

‘Struggle a little, why don’t you?’

It was obvious that Master could still hold his own. His acts of cruelty towards me in the past flashed through my mind.

I crisply turned away.

“Bebeto, let’s go!”

I led Bebeto over the heads of the Dark Army’s hundreds of thousands of soldiers as they marched closer and closer to the fort walls.

“Giga Raiden!”

The name of the 7th Circle AOE lightning spell sprang from my lips.

Bzzt!

A storm of electricity made up of thick strands of pure power fell to the ground, bristling with 8th Circle mana. No, the mana was on a different level altogether from what other 8th Circle mages could produce.

‘You’re all dead today!’

In my hand was the relic of the Gold Dragon Tarkania, the Staff of Despair. As if it could understand my heart, its pitch-black glow was shining through the darkness.

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzt!

Fed by the mana in the air, hundreds of lightning bolts and their accompanying electric waves crashed to the ground.

There were no screams.

Only blinding blue rage sweeping like a furious tidal wave over the bodies of the Hell Soldiers walking towards the fort.

* * *

‘Wh-Who the hell is that?!’

While the Successor of Darkness, Altakas, was trading magic blows with the Golden Eyed Reaper who had dominated the Continent 100 years ago, the number 2 figure of the Dark Empire, Tower Master Galuiace of the Shining Magic Tower, was commanding the battlefield.

The walls of Nerman’s sturdy but hastily constructed fort were packed with mages from each of the Continent’s magic towers and Nerman’s elite soldiers, but Galuaice did not fear them. A Nerman without Lord Kyre was a mere phantom, and the soldiers and mages guarding their lives atop the walls would soon be ripped to pieces by the Death Knights and Dark Empire soldiers.

In addition, the aerial units that could be called the main deciding forces of a battle were stacked in the Dark Empire’s favor, and overwhelmingly so. The Nerman and Continental Coalition Skyknights had foolishly appeared without the aid of the paladins, the forces who could deal the biggest blow to the Dark Empire. Their numbers were double that of the Death Wyverns, but numbers were insignificant. Death Wyverns could not be felled with one or two spears. Granted, their decision-making abilities were dull compared to when they were alive, but the Death Wyverns and Skyknights could easily make up for that with their bloodthirsty fighting spirit.

The sudden turn came with a flash of light. A spatial rift opened, from which hundreds of wyverns and paladins emerged. They cast Holy Shout, a spell that could even damage black mages, and purified the mana around them.

GUOOOOOOO!

“K-Kyre!”

Galuaice gaped at the hybrid wyvern in the distance. Illuminated by the Light spells coming from the fort, the wyvern flew as a spell was fired at the advancing Dark Empire troops.

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzt! Boooooooooom.

Kyre and his hybrid wyvern fired a 7th Circle spell, and Galuaice blankly stared at the absolute destruction the spell wrought on the ground.

Sch-sch-sch-sch-schwip! Kegehhh.

His head whipped towards the Death Wyvern screams that suddenly burst out from above.

“...!!”

His eyes widened. High spirits of wind, Djinns, were churning the air, and silver arrows were cutting through the darkness.

‘Elves…’

It was the elves. To his shock, the elves had joined a battle between humans for the first time in a thousand years. Over a hundred elven Skyknights appeared on their harpies, beasts possessing as much combat ability as wyverns.

And with them, came high wind spirits that even Death Wyverns would find difficult to rebuff.

* * *

‘Hm?’

While I was dealing with the Dark Empire underlings that had drawn close to the fort walls, I felt the presence of familiar spirits and turned my head.

‘Nice!’

A whoop burst out of me as soon as I looked. It was the elves, the reinforcements I had desperately wanted but could not bring myself to ask for their help, knowing that they were bound to a rule to never involve themselves in human wars.

But they had come. They had come, accompanied by a score of high wind spirits that would be extremely effective in a melee fight. As soon as they arrived, the elves used spirits to control the environment, plunging into the right side of the Death Wyvern formation as they fired their silver arrows.

‘Thank you. I will surely repay this favor.’

The elves’ contribution would be forever remembered in the history of Nerman’s revival. They, too, were my people. Citizens wholly deserving of my love.

Sch-sch-sch-sch-sch-schwip! Babam!

Kweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek! Kyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaak!

But that wasn’t enough to end the battle. The sudden appearance of the elves had left the right flank of the Death Wyverns in tatters, but they did not stop. They were never ruled by a fear of death in the first place, so they fought ferociously until the moment they crashed and the ghostly light left their eyes.

‘I… will grant you mercy.’

In truth, these Death Wyverns and Death Knights stopping at nothing to carry out their task were not to blame. They hadn’t chosen to end up this way. They were my enemies, but they deserved mercy.

‘But you guys… I’ll rip you all to pieces.’

After ascending to the 8th Circle, I could feel atmospheric mana with every part of my body. The increased sensitivity wasn’t just limited to atmospheric mana. I could even sense the energy of corrupted black mages wielding undiscriminating mana.

Ten fierce energy signatures came flying my way. Judging by the amount of mana they were drawing from the atmosphere, they were 7th Circle level. The Tower Masters who had become half-liches in death were casting spells as they flew towards me like lifeless moths fluttering towards a flame.

The Staff of Despair in my hand filled with magic.

Bebeto charged instinctively towards the mages. He knew that his master was stronger than anyone in the world.

I couldn’t disappoint him.

‘You’re dead.’

Since the Lord of Nerman had been nowhere to be found, Galuaice thought the purported 7th Circle mage had fled. But there he was, flying all over the battlefield on his wyvern.

‘Your mana should be at rock bottom. Huhuhu…’

According to their intel, Kyre was a 7th Circle mage who possessed 8th Circle-level mana. Once he died, the assistance of the elves would be utterly meaningless. As long as their side had the 8th Circle black magic swordsman Altakas, they could make an infinite number of deathless knights and soldiers to maintain the Dark Empire.

‘Farewell, foolish human.’

He ordered the waiting 7th Circle half-liches to attack, and the spells they fired were now hurling towards Kyre. The lips of The Shining Tower Master curled into a victorious smile. Kyre might be called the God of War, but he had suffered a terrible defeat at the hands of Altakas.

There was no way he could block the spells. Even an 8th Circle mage would have little chance against a concentrated barrage from 7th Circle mages. Soon, the man and his wyvern would be struck by the diverse spells cast by the 7th Circle half-liches.

Flash!

There was a radiant light so blinding Galuaice was compelled to turn his head away.

“…?”

There was no explosion. Fierce war was raging in every direction, but the explosions of 7th Circle magic should be audible from anywhere on the battlefield. Yet there was no sound of them, no sound at all.

“…!!”

The moment he turned his head, his mouth parted and his eyes became as wide as was physically possible. Reduced to speechlessness, he simply stared.

The 7th Circle spells possessing enough force to destroy a castle or two had been erased without a trace. Like an overwhelming tsunami instantly swallowing a raft, the spells were forcibly erased, leaving a splash of mana lights as afterimages.

And then, he saw it. A massive wave of mana gathered in the black staff in Kyre’s hand as he charged on his wyvern.

Shwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

A black tempest of yin-attribute mana surged from the mana staff. It didn’t even manifest into a spell. It was an attack of pure mana, the kind of attack mages were most reluctant to attempt. It surged in set intervals towards the 7th Circle half-liches floating in the air.

Sizzleeeee.

They melted.

Leaving everything else intact, the mana shadows shot towards the half-liches had melted time and space before the liches could even react.

“Mana… Attack…”

Galuaice, a 7th Circle mage, could only produce a pathetic imitation of the pure attack a mage of the 8th Circle or above could cast. You couldn’t quite call it magic, and yet, you couldn’t say it wasn’t magic.

Flash!

Like a vicious snake, the yin-attribute shadow swallowed their core forces whole before disappearing with a momentary flash of light.

Hiccups emerged from the shocked Galuaice’s mouth.

The Lord of Nerman, Kyre… was not a 7th Circle mage.

The terrifying attack he had just witnessed was 8th Circle magic. No, it was possible… that it was 9th Circle magic… The eternal goal and dream of all mages.

* * *

Booooooooooooooooooom! Craaaaaaaaash.

Glittering in a part of the battlefield that none of the thousands of wyverns participating in the battle dared to encroach was an Absolute Shield. As one of the strongest shields, it could only be cast by 8th Circle mages. Hundreds of rotating lightning spears were slamming down on the blue, diamond-like shield, and behind it, Aidal was holding up his staff, sweat beading down his forehead. In order to maintain the shield, he was pushed to the brink for the first time in his life.

‘I-I can’t hold on!’

A hundred years had passed since he left the Kallian Continent, but he didn’t think there would be anyone who could defeat him with magic or swordsmanship. But alas, that was a big miscalculation. Because of this black magic swordsman who had lived longer than him, Aidal was facing a wretchedly bloody fate for the first time since his birth.

‘Ngh… I shouldn’t have come back…’

Aidal, who had cast dimensional teleportation purely to get some air, had never even dreamed that he would end up like this. He had only intended on playing for a few months to his heart’s content at the expense of his disciple, who owed his success to Aidal. But now, he was about to be smashed into a bloody cake by this unexpected, formidable foe.

‘If only I had known this would happen… I should’ve just bounced.’

Aidal had hesitated a little when he heard there was an 8th Circle magic swordsman around. He had lived a full, full life, but because he had the strength and ability to ride out another 100 or so years, he briefly considered running to Earth. However, he still had his pride as a man and ended up staying.

“B-Blink!”

It wasn’t just magic that was threatening his life. Even while casting magic, Altakas’ sword was weaving between the lightning spears. The extremely quick-witted Aidal sensed the urgency of the situation and cast Blink.

Flash!

Schwiiiiiing!

A lightning spear and a sword imbued with a pale aura slashed down on the spot where Aidal had just been.

“Kuku… that little rat.”

Disparaging the one and only Aidal as a little rat, Altakas sneered as he stared at the 8th Circle archmage who had appeared far in the distance. Aidal was an archmage who had once reigned supreme over the Continent, but he was helpless before Altakas. Their skill in magic might be similar, but Altakas had the destructive force of black magic and swordsmanship a mage could not handle. Even Aidal was not the 8th Circle magic swordsman’s match.

“Your futile resistance ends here.”

Altakas saw that the dead heat raging in the sky had shifted while his attention was diverted by his magic duel with Aidal. Both sides were engaged in a melee scuffle. Regular Skyknights would have been no match for his troops, but he could see paladin Skyknights here and there. There was no doubt that new forces had joined the fray.

“Kukuku…”

But it would change nothing. All he had to do was to turn the wyverns and Skyknights that died today into new Death Wyverns and Death Knights.

Feeling carefree, he started moving towards Aidal with his sword in hand.

Flash!

“...!!”

At that moment, Altakas turned his head towards a massive wave of yin-attribute mana.

“What…!”

His confident and composed demeanor cracked for the first time.

“M-Mana Attack!”

Any mage would recognize that brute force method of attack—a deluge of mana resembling the draconic magic of the dragons, an attack that could only be cast by an upper circle mage confident they could defeat their opponent.

They were being erased. The 7th Circle half-liches that Altakas had put his heart into creating were being erased. The all-dominating force of mana annihilated them before they could resist. His eyes flitted towards the one who had unleashed the attack, and Altakas saw a familiar human.

“K-Kyre!”

It was him.

Surprisingly, the person who had unleashed the Mana Attack was the Lord of Nerman said to have fled.

“H-He reached… the 8th Circle…?”

His voice was hollow with shock. Even he had reached the 8th Circle after over 100 years of toil. But he could feel without a doubt that Kyre, a young man barely twenty years old, had ascended to the 8th Circle. Altakas could hardly believe his eyes.

Flash!

And then, it was over. The 7th Circle half-liches who were nigh-invincible went from putting up a slip-shod mana defense to disappearing without a trace, erased from the world.

“Kukuku…”

His surprise lasted but a moment. Altakas’ cold laugh rang out.

The man staring at him from atop his wyvern, the man named Kyre, was smiling faintly at him.