Among magicians, there is a saying akin to a law.
Magic always demands a price.
The payment could be in mana, or the exhausting time spent on arduous learning.
If you think about it, the same could be said for knights who become stronger by paying the price of relentless effort to wield aura. In fact, this could apply to almost anything.
However, magicians are the ones who deeply internalized this saying because, for them, the price was far more pronounced.
For example, there was spirit magic, which required a contract in exchange for power.
There was also forbidden magic, where one could gain immense strength by sacrificing a part of their body.
And in Rockefeller’s grimoire, there were quite a few spells of that nature.
—Since you can’t use proper magic, are you resorting to this trash?
—It’s because the professor is incapable of teaching. I even wondered if you were doing it on purpose.The magic I was forced to learn due to Rockefeller’s attempts to restrain me, fearing my growth.
Though they had significant restrictions, I was confident.
Because the opponent before me was a playable character I had spent an extraordinary amount of time with.
I knew everything about his combat style and tendencies.
“…Hersel Ben Tenest.”
When the spell Volcanic Rain, which should have been perfect, produced only a tiny speck of fire, Torel frowned.
“What the hell is this supposed to mean?”
At that moment, I could vividly picture the thoughts racing through Torel’s mind.
Was I mocking him?
Or was I deliberately pulling this trick while being mindful of his mirror ability?
After all, this was a weapon he was reluctant to reveal.
Time to shake him up.
“Want to hear something interesting?”
I subtly shook my staff and ignited the Noble Blood’s Embers.
“I can see one second into the future.”
Torel’s pupils quivered slightly before he let out a sneering laugh.
Internally, he was likely debating whether I had seen the future and deliberately cast a flawed spell to counter his mirror ability.
But in the end, he must have dismissed the idea as nonsense.
“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”
“I’ll prove it to you.”
I drew the spell formula and locked eyes with Torel.
“Right now, you’re about to say this.”
“Stop joking aro— huh?”
Torel’s exact words.
But I had spoken them half a beat before he did.
“What the hell is—”
The magic I had used was Future Ventriloquism.
It allows me to mimic the target’s speech a fraction of a second before they say it.
The price was that I would be unable to feel temperature for ten minutes.
This was a disadvantage for elemental mages, who need to develop their sense of touch, but that didn’t matter to me.
“I told you. I can see one second into the future.”
I could hear Torel swallowing hard.
Despite his arrogance, he was easy to shake when faced with uncertainty.
This was evident from the very moment I approached him.
If he had an instinctive predator’s nature, he would have attacked immediately.
But he didn’t.
Even in the middle of battle, when I spoke to him, he instinctively responded.
In time, he would achieve mental growth and overcome this weakness—but not yet.
“Then… then predict what I’m about to do next!”
Torel struck an awkward pose.
Predicting he would act foolishly, I shook my head in disappointment.
“Why would I mimic such a ridiculous gesture?”
Torel’s eyes widened in shock.
He was definitely falling into my trap.
Now that the conditions were met, it was time to begin.
How to defeat an overpowered playable character while stuck in the body of a weakling.
The first step was to bring the opponent down to my level.
“Enough with the games, Torel Ol Izas. Fight me seriously.”
I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small vial.
***
Torel was too rattled to move recklessly.
‘Seeing one second into the future? Then… did he lower Volcanic Rain’s output because he foresaw my mirror’s ability?’
If that was the case, this would be an incredibly troublesome opponent.
He would be able to see which spell he was about to cast and react accordingly.
With enough time to prepare, he could easily dodge or counter minor attack spells.
‘Do I need an omnidirectional attack? Damn it, do I really have to use my trump card here?’
Torel traced a spell formation in the air, staring intently at Hersel.
If this guy was truly capable of seeing the future, then his skill level was impossible to gauge.
But admitting that didn’t feel like a waste.
“I acknowledge that your magic is impressive. But that won’t be enough. Now, let’s see how well you handle this.”
Countless mirrors materialized around Torel.
Since the original mirror had been destroyed, he couldn’t use the more efficient replication magic.
“Creating them all with illusion magic is exhausting…”
In the end, he managed to create 15 mirrors.
They flew around Hersel like a swarm of crows.
Hersel remained calmly in place.
Torel swiftly swung his staff, repeating a complex spell.
It was high-level simultaneous casting.
Soon, arrows of light took aim at Hersel.
Torel smirked.
“It doesn’t matter if they miss. As long as one of the fifteen mirrors registers a hit, the spell will count it as a direct strike.”
The moment a mirror was struck, Hersel’s stance would break.
And the arrows of light would continuously reflect off the mirrors, creating an endless barrage.
The chain reaction would make it impossible to avoid.
“This will continue until I decide to stop.”
There was no way to counter this.
With that conviction, Torel unleashed the spell.
But then—
The small vial in Hersel’s hand slipped from his grasp and shattered against the ground.
Crash!
A rapidly expanding black smoke engulfed the training ground.
The vial had contained a smoke bomb.
“What?”
The audience, the sky—everything vanished from view.
In the pitch-black darkness, a deep voice echoed.
“How does it feel? Having your strategy ruined by something as simple as a tool?”
Torel realized his mistake too late.
Bringing a smoke bomb meant Hersel had prepared for this in advance.
The ability to foresee only half a beat into the future was laughably insufficient for events of the past.
In this case, it meant that the opponent had either foreseen a much further future or had somehow predicted his own weapon’s trajectory through another method.
Considering the possibilities between the two…
“Did you deceive me?”
With a trembling voice, he asked.
A shameless answer came in response.
“That’s right, it was a lie. Want me to show you a magic trick as a prize?”
He clapped his hands.
“A magic trick where I clap my hands right beside you.”
The sound of the clapping grew closer and closer, making it seem as if he was truly approaching.
Torel’s anger flared to its peak.
He gritted his teeth and fired magic at the source of the sound.
“You really are just as the rumors say! You damn bastard!”
A sphere of fire, accompanied by a gust of wind, swept away the smoke.
But Hersel was nowhere to be found.
Just then, Torel felt a tickling sensation near his ear.
“Didn’t I tell you? I’d clap right beside you.”
He was right there.
Very, very close.
***
The conditions for Shadow Leap had been met.
[Restriction 1]
The moment the caster informs a hostile target that they will be arriving soon, the spell activates.
—That’s right, it was a lie. Want me to show you a magic trick?
Even though I disguised it as clapping magic, I had already proven through experiments that this was enough.
Shadow Leap activates as long as the words “magic” and “arriving soon” are spoken near the target.
And so, I arrived right beside Torel, hiding within the smoke for quite some time while holding my breath.
[Restriction 2]
For three seconds, my entire body—except for my head—was paralyzed.
I had to endure this restriction for one simple reason.
I needed him to waste as much magic as possible, attacking the supposed source of the clapping.
Until he reached the point of mana exhaustion.
Then, I clapped once more in front of him and aimed my staff, charged with magic.
As the smoke cleared, I saw sweat trickling down his forehead.
Torel hurriedly swung his staff, trying to cast a defensive spell.
I waited patiently, watching him complete the spell before releasing my own magic.
Because the spell I was about to cast was extremely powerful—but came with severe risks.
[Restriction]
The caster suffers the exact same damage as the target.
A ripple of air pierced through Torel’s barrier and struck him squarely in the abdomen.
Blood spilled from his mouth.
“Kuhk!”
At the same time, I felt warm liquid trickling down my chin—my own blood.
I recalled Rockefeller’s scornful words when he first saw this magic.
—You probably think this spell is powerful. But the caster suffers the same damage. Stop wasting your time on this garbage and learn some proper magic!
Garbage, huh?
But was it really?
If used correctly, it was an exceptionally useful spell.
Both Torel and I were sent flying backward from the impact.
But I grinned.
Because behind Torel was the edge of the dueling ground.
Meanwhile, I had plenty of room left to land safely.
“You think I’ll just let myself be forced out of bounds?!”
Even as he was flung backward, Torel swung his staff.
But in the process, his body had already crossed the boundary of the dueling arena.
The magic he cast was Manifestation.
From the ground outside the dueling ring, a tree sprouted.
He planned to use it to climb back into the ring.
But he had made a mistake.
No matter how untalented I was in most forms of magic, there was one thing I excelled at.
I used Psychokinesis, a magic of the unique category, to shove Torel’s body sideways.
Torel tried to counter with his own psychokinesis to readjust his position.
But his mana was nearly depleted.
The magical struggle between us lasted only for a moment.
In the end, I won.
I heard the dull thud of Torel’s back hitting the ground outside the ring.
I wiped the blood from my lips.
The once-boisterous spectators had fallen silent.
***
Even the referee, who should have announced the results, was speechless.
Rockefeller stood there, mouth half-open, as if entranced.
He had only taught him things that were practically useless in real combat.
Yet, using nothing but those scraps, he had achieved victory.
And he hadn’t even revealed the secret of the mirror—the information he had been forbidden to share.
‘I don’t know how he got his hands on that information. But does it even matter…?’
An unexplainable emotion stirred inside Rockefeller, making him mutter under his breath.
“…So it could be used this way as well?”
But the surrounding reactions were less impressed.
“What the hell just happened? I feel like I missed something because of the smoke.”
“What did Torel mean by saying he was tricked? Was that
future-seeing magic just a scam?”
Unlike Rockefeller, the audience had no way of grasping what had transpired.
And their questions soon reached the ears of the Archmage.
He used magic to replay the events.
But this time, without the smoke.
As people started to understand, the first response that surfaced was cold skepticism.
“So he had already gathered information about Torel. That’s why he prepared the smoke bomb.”
“Tsk, I thought it was something impressive. In the end, he just used trickery to win.”
There were a few who held differing opinions, but their voices quickly faded.
“…But still, wasn’t it amazing?”
“No. Look at Torel. He’s still gasping for air. That’s all because of mana exhaustion. If it weren’t for those underhanded tricks, he wouldn’t have wasted so much mana.”
It was natural for those with shallow knowledge to think that way.
And Hersel Ben Tenest’s reputation certainly played a part.
Those who had suffered at his hands would never acknowledge his victory.
Instead, they would seize the opportunity to attack him further.
‘So this is my karma, huh…’
The spectators hurled criticism at Hersel.
But the reaction from those connected to Frost Heart was completely different.
“H-He actually won! And with magic, no less!”
Athera, looking completely stunned, smacked Magdal’s back with all his strength.
Magdal blinked in shock, staring at the betting slip in his hand before his jaw dropped.
“Hiiik!”
But the astonishment was short-lived.
The air suddenly became tense.
Athera cautiously glanced at the hulking man wrapped in rags.
He had been like this ever since Hersel had drawn his staff.
Even though his face was obscured, there was no doubt his expression was anything but pleasant.
Athera was about to ask Magdal to switch seats with him when—
The ragged man let out a long sigh and relaxed his shoulders.
Then, in a deep voice, he murmured:
“Not bad.”
To read Chapters ahead 👇
CH 226-230 (Who am I?) $3
CH 231-235 (Frostheart Vs Wisdom) $3
CH 236-240 (I want to lose) $3
CH 241-245 (Finals) $3
CH 246-250 (Vs Valient) $3
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