Chapter 144

CHAPTER 8 Thump! Someone was humming an unpleasant tune. As pain racked his body, Cyril regained a sliver of consciousness. He lifted his heavy eyelids and, through blurry vision, saw Robert lying limp on the ground and, farther back, Huberd ruthlessly kicking Glenn. Cyril tried to chant. He could at least get in one last shot. But his tongue refused to work right. His mana reserves had already hit rock bottom. The only reason he’d managed to regain consciousness was because his condition meant he recovered mana faster than the average person. Still, with so little left, he no longer had any chance of winning. Even if he attacked now, he wouldn’t stand a chance against Huberd. After all, his opponent could use unchanted magecraft. But can he really cast spells without chanting? If he could, then why hadn’t he done so right from the beginning? The greatest strength of unchanted magecraft was the chance it gave one to make the first move and catch one’s opponent unawares. But Huberd had saved the technique until just after Robert showed up. Cyril thought back to the events of the match. Huberd had probably let Glenn hit him with that fireball in order to draw Robert out of hiding. Was he trying to keep Robert from seeing him use the technique? Is there some kind of trick to it? That was when Cyril noticed something. Huberd’s hand—all those distasteful rings on his long, slender fingers were gone. Every single one of them. …That’s it! Out of habit, Cyril tried to reach for his broach, only to realize he couldn’t even move his fingers. His hazy consciousness was about to plunge back into darkness. His vision began to mist over, fading into white. Wait, no… This mist is real. The next thing Cyril knew, the area around him had been plunged into a dense mist. He couldn’t see more than a few steps in front of him. Huberd looked like a blurry shadow. The mist was too strange to have occurred naturally; he had to assume it was some kind of magecraft. But Huberd was the only one capable of using any spells right now, and Cyril couldn’t figure out why he would bother making mist. What’s happening…? he wondered, confused. Then he saw something—a small silhouette approaching Huberd from out of the mist. Compared to him, the figure looked like a young child. That was how small it was. The youthful silhouette muttered something under their breath, their voice too soft for Cyril to make out. But he did get an earful of Huberd’s vile laughter. “Ah-hya-hya-hya-hya-hya! I knew it! You’re really something, eh, Silent Witch?!” That was the last thing Cyril heard before losing consciousness. Monica was still unaccustomed to flight magecraft, and she needed a pole-shaped object, like her staff or a broom, to keep her balance. But she didn’t have time to search for something like that now; she leaped out the window and activated the spell, nothing below her but air. Keeping one’s balance was most difficult when turning. So Monica went straight as far as she could, and when she needed to turn, she disengaged the spell, adjusted her direction, and then cast it again. This consumed more mana, but she was able to reach the forest very quickly. As soon as she arrived, she used unchanted magecraft to engulf the area in mist. Artificially manipulating the weather for long periods of time was forbidden, as it risked affecting crops. But there shouldn’t be any problem covering a bit of the forest in mist, and this wouldn’t take very long anyway. Hiding in the haze, Monica advanced deeper into the woods. She’d gotten a pretty good idea of where the battle was taking place from the image in the student council room. It wasn’t hard to find Huberd and the others. Huberd was humming as he kicked someone… Monica soon saw it was Glenn. Her friend’s eyes were shut tight; perhaps he was already unconscious. Monica knew that kicking an opponent in a magic battle where physical attacks were nullified wasn’t meant to injure—it was meant to humiliate, to crush an opponent’s dignity. Though it was hard to see through the mist, she could make out Cyril and Robert collapsed nearby. A chill ran down Monica’s spine. She felt like she’d just swallowed a block of ice. Her fingertips were cold, but not because of the temperature. She clenched her fists tight. Pain shot through her left hand, but she ignored it. “Dee,” she said. The humming abruptly stopped. Huberd cocked his head; then he saw Monica and grinned. His eyes seemed to glow, as though he were delighted from the bottom of his heart. This was the face of a hunter who had just found his prey. Monica had always been terrified of that face. And she was scared this time, too. …But another emotion, a stronger one, had taken over. When she’d met with Duke Clockford after the New Year’s banquet, she’d felt an emotion so intense, it made her vision go white. And now she knew exactly what it was. The tingling in the back of her head, the heat boiling up from the pit of her stomach—this was anger. “I am…very angry right now…” Monica always kept her head down; she wasn’t used to feeling anger. But now, she gritted her teeth, straightened her back, and glared up at the boy looming over her. “…so I’m going to thump you good,” she finished, her voice low. Huberd looked at her in blank amazement. Then he leaned back and began to cackle. “Ah-hya-hya-hya-hya-hya! I knew it! You’re really something, eh, Silent Witch?!” As Huberd’s throat vibrated with laughter, he looked at Monica with sincere bliss. Normally, Monica would have turned away immediately. But this time, she met his stare with the same calm gaze she directed at the chessboard. “This magic battle doesn’t have a fixed number of challengers, right?” she said. “Then I’m going to jump in a little late…and join the fight.” “Sounds great to me. You’re the only one who could ever satisfy me anyway. Keep me entertained, all right?” Huberd Dee loved to hunt. The stronger the prey, the better. In fact, what he really wanted was to face a creature so powerful, he barely stood a chance. And there was one creature more powerful than all the rest—one he’d never stop loving. About three years ago, Huberd challenged a certain student at Minerva’s to a magic battle. That student’s name was Monica Everett. She was a genius; she’d come up with a way to cast spells without chanting, and everyone said she was a shoo-in for the Seven Sages. At the time, she was around fourteen years old. He remembered her looking much skinnier, sicklier, and more miserable back then. Huberd had underestimated her, thinking that it wouldn’t matter if she was a genius or if she could cast without chanting if none of her attacks could hit him. But five seconds after the battle began, Huberd realized his mistake. Monica had used her unchanted magecraft the moment the battle started. And every single attack she’d fired had hit him. Not having to chant put her at an advantage, but what was truly incredible was her precision—she could have hit the eye of a needle. How many calculations had she done to achieve such a shocking level of accuracy? It was positively superhuman. Huberd had gone into the magic battle planning to hunt a rabbit. But Monica was no rabbit—she was a monster in rabbit’s clothing. She’d trounced him. And he’d never felt happier. I want to bring her down! This incredibly powerful monster of a girl! She’d crushed him like a fly, but Huberd still had hope. He would rack his brains and use every trap he could think of to take down his prey! And now, standing before him, was the very monster he’d always been chasing. And even better, she was angry and ready to fight! Huberd laughed gleefully, then began to speak. “Bernie Jones.” The name made Monica’s shoulders twitch. “You were always begging him to save you. But when I tried to rope him into a magic battle, you suddenly got quiet, docile.” Huberd looked over at Cyril. “This silver-haired kid is your replacement for Bernie here, isn’t he?” “No,” she said quietly, glancing at Cyril. Her fists trembled slightly at her sides. “He’s my upperclassman. Someone I respect.” That wasn’t quite what Huberd had expected, but it seemed hurting the silver-haired boy did have an effect on her. That’s right, he thought. Get mad. Then show me the full extent of your power. One thing was bothering Huberd, however. He wanted Monica to fight at full strength, and… “Hey, this mist is yours, right?” he asked. “Aren’t you going to dispel it?” The mist all around them was probably meant to hide Monica from the spectators. But a mage could only use two spells at once. In other words, as long as the mist remained, Monica could only use one spell at a time. And she’d be spending mana to maintain the mist, too. Huberd couldn’t fight her at full strength like that. This was shaping up to be a boring match. But when Monica replied, her tone was full of confidence, like she wasn’t worried in the slightest. “I only need one hand to deal with you.” He’d never imagined the timid, cowardly Monica would speak to him like that. But rather than making him angry, it filled him with joy. “Happy to hear it. I never thought that shivering little coward from three years ago would learn to trash-talk. But you’re not the only one who’s had three years to grow.” Huberd waved his right hand. Without chanting, he summoned five flame arrows and sent them flying toward Monica. She immediately put up a barrier to block them. That’s one tough barrier, thought Huberd. The Seven Sages really are something else. Huberd threw in an extra chant, slamming a lightning spear into the barrier. It struck along with the flame arrows, and the combined force began to overwhelm Monica’s defense. It was only a matter of time before he pushed through. But Monica didn’t panic. Instead, she fixed Huberd with a cold glare. “…I see you needed to chant for that lightning spear,” she noted. “Banter? Now?” replied Huberd. “Your barrier’s about to shatter.” “……” Just then, the mist around them grew thicker. It was now dense enough to hide them from each other. At the same time, Huberd felt Monica dispel her barrier. Did she plan to attack him from the mist? Huberd quickly put up a barrier of his own, preparing for Monica’s strike. Near his feet were the three unconscious students. If Monica struck, and Huberd dodged or blocked it with his barrier, her attack could hit the others. She couldn’t make any reckless moves. Huberd, on the other hand, didn’t give a damn what happened to the rest of them. “Come on, hit me!” he declared. “Or are you just gonna hide forever? If you don’t take this seriously, I’ll use a wide-area spell on everybody in range. Five, four, three—” Before he could finish his countdown, an ice spear flew out of the mist. At first, it looked like just that—an ice spear—but it had an insane amount of mana packed into it, and it was very strong, to boot. My barrier probably can’t take that, thought Huberd. But the projectile wasn’t moving that quickly. He could use flight magecraft to squeeze by it. So he dispelled his barrier and dodged the spear. Even if the attack included a tracking formula, those were only effective for maybe two or three seconds. As long as he flew far enough away, it wouldn’t matter. After about three seconds, the tracking formula would lose its effect. …Or that would have been true if the attack was using a standard tracking formula. “Wh-what?!” It had been over three seconds, and yet the ice spear was still doggedly pursuing him. It seemed to have a mind of its own. Huberd didn’t know of any spell capable of such a feat. From the mist, he heard Monica’s voice. “This is an advanced tracking formula I developed recently. It lasts over ten times longer than a standard formula… It can keep going for about twenty to thirty seconds.” Now everything made sense. If Monica had spells like this at her disposal, she wouldn’t have to worry about hitting the others. Huberd felt his spine tingle with excitement. Monica Everett—the Monica Everett—was taking him on with brand-new magecraft she’d just developed! What could possibly be better? “…Ha-ha! You’re the greatest woman alive!” Monica was currently maintaining both the mist and her ice spear. In other words, she couldn’t use any more spells. Huberd, on the other hand, was using only one spell—flight. That said, he still had to focus on evasion. He didn’t have the mental capacity to spare for anything else. In that case, as soon as the ice spear stops homing in on me, I’ll press her! He kept dodging the spear while counting down in his head. There were around ten to twenty seconds left. The ice spear was persistent, but it wasn’t fast enough to keep up with his flight spell. Huberd lowered his altitude slightly so he could land at a moment’s notice. Just then, he saw a red light flash ahead of him. His vision went scarlet. A moment later, horrible pain shot through his right eye. “Gah…ahhh…?!” Huberd lost control of his flight spell and tumbled to the ground. It was lucky he’d already begun to descend, or the impact would have been a lot worse. But now that he’d fallen face-first onto the ground, the ice spear caught up to him and plunged deep into his back. And that wasn’t all. A volley of flame arrows followed, raining down on him. Huberd let out a throat-ripping scream. He tried to keep his mind moving as he worked to grasp the situation. What pierced my right eye? A flame arrow? A mage can only use two spells at once. Monica was already maintaining both the mist and her ice spear. She couldn’t use flame arrows, too. Then who fired them? One of the three on the ground? …No, wait. They came from me! Huberd heard footsteps crunching through the dirt and rose to his knees. He looked up, his face covered in dirt and soot, and saw the Silent Witch looking mercilessly down at him. “The thumb and middle finger of your right hand. The index, middle, and pinkie fingers of your left… Five in all. That was where your rings were before the battle. But now they’re all gone.” Monica had one of Huberd’s rings between her fingers. A magecraft formula was visible inside its gem. “You planted these magical items all around here before the fight began, didn’t you? You used your rings as a casting medium, and the item you used to control them—is it your earring?” Covering his painful right eye, Huberd laughed harshly. “It’s not against the rules. This is a magic battle, after all.” Within the special barrier, it was entirely acceptable both to use magical items and to borrow the power of spirits. After all, both required mana and were considered magecraft. Not many people did so, however. Magical items were incredibly expensive, and many of the offensive types could only be used once before they lost their effects. The rings Huberd was using were items he’d created specifically for himself. When he channeled mana into his earring, flame arrows would launch from his rings. By reducing the power of those arrows as much as was feasible, he’d made it so the rings could be used multiple times. In this way, they were quite efficient. Huberd, then, was using these items alongside regular magecraft. Meanwhile, everyone hit by his flame arrows would assume he was using the spells without chanting. Monica, however, had realized what the items were immediately. She’d collected and analyzed one while buying time with her ice spear. “…My magical item,” growled Huberd. “You rewrote its formula, didn’t you?” His five rings were constantly linked to his earrings via mana. But Monica had collected one of the rings and written over its magecraft formula—changing the item’s user from Huberd Dee to Monica Everett. Obviously, not just anyone could pull something like this off. An ordinary person would have required a lot more time, both to analyze the item and to rewrite the formula. And she did it in mere seconds! Huberd shivered with excitement. Ah… The Silent Witch’s power is out of this world! She’s a true monster! She hadn’t simply destroyed his traps, she’d stolen them for her own. And she’d done it all like it was nothing! “I once had to rewrite Mr. Louis’s barrier… It took me close to a minute to disengage the dummy formula meant to prevent tampering.” As Monica spoke, she rolled Huberd’s ring around in her palm, looking at it like it was a toy. “It took me less than five seconds to disengage the dummy formula embedded in this. It was child’s play. In the end, I didn’t even need to bother with that advanced tracking formula.” In the dim, mist-covered woods, the Silent Witch’s green eyes glowed as she continued in an icy whisper. “Were you so desperate to replicate my skills that you resorted to parlor tricks? I can’t imagine why… It’s only unchanted magecraft.” At this unbelievable display of arrogance, Huberd’s heart skipped a beat. It was practically singing with joy. What other woman could give him such thrills?