What occurred had been nothing short of a nightmare for that man. At first, he had thought it was an earthquake. With the constant screaming and violent shaking, he learned there was an emergency. When he realized that the massive black tree was aiming for his laboratory, he thought it was all over.
Indeed, while stealing mana from various Magi, the tree was no doubt targeting his workplace. This was a laboratory that had existed for nearly one hundred years. This man’s research was considered quite dull, even compared to that of his counterparts. But it was obvious to him why that fiend went after his lab—it was the magic potion he secretly possessed.
It was a legendary thing, something anyone somewhat educated would have heard of. The sheer danger of it led to its inventors being erased, and research and possession of the potion being forbidden.
It was simple fortune that had brought such an item into the hands of this Magus, a man who was slightly talented, but still within the bounds of mediocrity. All he had done was unearth the potion when digging a hole meant to be a garbage dump. He could still clearly recall the shock he felt when he first tested the potion’s capabilities, confirming its identity.
If word of this potion’s existence were to get out, it would send shock waves throughout the imperial capital. If he handed it over to the empire, his name would instantly become known to many. It would become known, and nothing more. He would just be the guy who happened to stumble across it.
What drove him could only be described as dark impulses. For this man fed up with his own lack of talent, this coincidentally found magic potion would be his rosy future. He could get whatever he desired if he used this potion correctly. Though it had been erased hundreds of years ago and hadn’t been re-created since, he might learn how to mass-produce the potion if he looked into it. To give up such possibilities and bend to authority would be to fail in the pursuit of knowledge.
But then everything changed. No matter what happened, the thought of the potion had been enough to wash away his feelings of discontent. Ultimately, he hadn’t used it, as it wasn’t often you had a chance to use a potion of which you only had one vial. So he couldn’t possibly have been found out. He hadn’t told anyone about the potion, not his colleagues, friends, or family.
Still, it was clear he had screwed up.
By the sound of it, that fiendish tree had ended up here because of Lucia’s brother. The man had heard rumors of him. The Thousand Tricks, a Level 8 hunter and brother of the prodigy Lucia Rogier. They said he knew things he shouldn’t possibly know, and had the skills to guide the future.
The immense black tree had suddenly appeared in the Zebrudia Academy of Magic, a place long protected by barriers and in one of the safest regions of the imperial capital. It had been unhindered by coordinated attacks from the academy’s Magi and crushed the magically protected castle as though it had been constructed from building blocks. There was nothing that man could have done to it.
Good luck was what had kept the potion safe. Thanks to luck, coincidentally, nobody but the man had been present in the laboratory when the fiend had attacked. The fiend’s attention had been momentarily diverted. The Abyssal Inferno had appeared. The falling rubble hadn’t impaled the man. The tree had been defeated before it could return to its objective. The man had been able to flee before the arrival of anyone curious as to why the tree had been so focused on his laboratory. It was all thanks to luck.
Looking out over the broad campus, he let out a sigh of relief as he watched the Magi flock to the mounds of ashes. A single wrong step would have killed him. It was only because of a series of coincidences that he was still standing.
However, the die was already cast. If the Thousand Tricks learned of the man’s survival, the hunter would once again resort to forceful measures. Even if he didn’t, the tree’s behavior must have tipped him off that something was in the man’s laboratory. Surely the man himself would also be thoroughly investigated. He wasn’t so foolish as to think otherwise.
The man removed the bottle from his pocket and stared at it gravely. His heart was nervously pounding like a drum. He thought this day might come. You had to fight to live as you see fit in this world. A Level 8 hunter was a more than satisfactory opponent.
He looked at Professor Seyge’s tower, where the Thousand Tricks had gone. With the mentality of someone headed to their final battle, the man started walking.