This is fun… So endlessly enjoyable!
With limited mana reserves, it was normally impossible for magic users to maintain a spell with a constant, long-lasting effect. Many of Luke’s abilities should have been impossible, but chief among them was certainly the Dark Blessing spell. He developed it to combat Amelia’s Sound magic, and it made use of a number of Protection and Information magic spells. That was quite a while ago now, and since entering Aslan Magic Academy, Luke had devised a powerful new spell built upon that foundation.
He called it “Dark Spirit Drain.”
It used the nature of Luke’s Dark element to suck mana from a target, but not a human one. Instead, Luke targeted the mana in the air around him. Put simply, it allowed him to regenerate mana over time. This spell was difficult to disrupt, as well—if the target was not a living being, it could not resist, after all.
That was the contradiction that was born of Luke’s abilities; no matter how much magic he cast, the amount of mana he had at his disposal never dropped for a moment. In fact, it only ever increased. By devoting himself completely to his studies, Luke had succeeded in greatly improving the absorption of his Dark element, and the gap this contradiction created between him and other magic users was now massively significant.
In other words, Luke did not possess the one great weakness of all other magic users—he could almost never run out of mana.
Yolande had successfully managed to resist Luke’s Dark Spirit Drain, which was a testament to his own incredible power. Still, the fact remained that given the significant disparity between their mana reserves, Yolande would be the first to run out. Yolande realized this and provoked Luke, knowing that Luke was sure to rise to the challenge, even if he did sense that the provocation was deliberate. He had been right. All Luke had to do to claim victory was to keep using Dark Spirit Drain—especially since he had deliberately left some of his strength in reserve so that he could strengthen it in the middle of the fight.
But that would be boring.
I want him to show me everything his powerful Magnet magic is capable of. Then I want to crush him, head-on.
It was an arrogant desire, and one that Luke could not resist. In this case, arrogance was the only reason he had. But for him, it was enough.
“Ah ha ha ha!”
“You’re strong.”
A battle of swords ensued, blows that were just slightly too fast to be human—a speed made possible by magic. Those who looked on were left completely speechless by the spectacle, almost in disbelief that the fight taking place was between fellow magic users. The duel was so beautiful, so captivating, that none could bear to look away.
Abel found it particularly hard to tear his eyes away from their battle.
This is it, he thought.
He didn’t know why, but the duel made Abel realize something. He was convinced of it now.
The place I’m aiming for…it’s beyond this!
The story had changed significantly due to Luke—who should have been left to lazily, aimlessly drown in his own talent—taking charge of his life. Luke’s tireless pursuit of strength had driven Yolande to step up into a bigger role, despite his lack of relevance to the original book. In a roundabout way, the divergence and subsequent convergence of unexpected story branches spurred Abel to grow even stronger than he was ever meant to.
Luke parried a blow and sized up his opponent again.
In terms of raw speed, Yolande is just slightly faster than I am, even with these two stacks of Fortify Strength on me, thought Luke as the two of them crossed swords.
Incredible. He’s like an upgraded version of Abel.
Yolande’s mana was imbued with the magnetism of his element. Applying that mana to any objects, not just metallic ones, allowed him to attract and repulse them at will.
That’s really powerful magic… But I can also imagine how difficult it must be to actually use. He’s using his magnetism to facilitate that incredible speed and those unconventional movements that make a mockery of the laws of nature. Mwa ha… There’s such fearsome precision to his magic.
Yet the majority of Yolande’s spells had been rendered useless due to Luke’s Armor of Darkness. The spell did not just provide physical defense but also a guard against all magical interference. It was this ability that prevented Yolande from applying magnetism to Luke himself. Had Yolande’s opponent been anyone else, whether warrior or magic user, the duel would have simply been a matter of prolonging the moment he got in close enough to claim victory. Luke understood that fact, and it was precisely for that reason that he made the decision he did.
Luke resolved to use no further magic during their fight.
Yolande’s Magnet element could even affect other spells, provided they could be imbued with magnetism—but that did not apply to Luke’s Dark element. Dark swallowed all, and Magnet spells were no exception. If Luke were to use more of his Dark magic, the duel would be over far too quickly and easily.
What Luke sought was something else.
He wished to stand toe to toe with his enemy, face off on the same grounds, and twist them into submission with overwhelming strength.
He wanted a complete triumph; an undeniably clean victory with no excuses or complaints.
He believed without a shadow of a doubt that he had the ability to bring his selfish desire to fruition. His confidence was not the groundless kind, but the sort backed up by everything he had experienced up until that point in his life.
In terms of swordplay alone, Yolande is weaker than Alfred. It’s just that his magnetic abilities are aiding him. It’s going to take me a while to get a feel for how to handle them. They’re pretty tricky to deal with…
I…can’t land a hit. Luke’s completely on defense, blocking every hit at the last moment. I feel so little resistance from these strikes, it’s like I’m cutting through water. Ah, he’s got good eyesight. Very observant. He’s much better than I expected.
Their thoughts intertwined as they fought. To all those captivated onlookers, it must have appeared that Luke and Yolande were equally matched. That assessment was fairly accurate, given that Luke had arbitrarily forbidden himself from using several of his spells. However, that wouldn’t be true forever. Luke grew during battle, his technique maturing and adapting at a violent pace as he watched his opponent—his breathing, his timing, and his own unique rhythms. Luke steadily formed a clear picture of his enemy, as if sneering at his form, developing foresight that verged on premonition. With the element of magnetism, Yolande had an almost unlimited number of combinations with the sword. It wasn’t just his irregular movements that Luke had to watch out for, but the erratic vacillation between fast and slow due to his manipulation of the strength of the magnetism.
But all humans have emotions. Nobody can completely discard their own feelings. There must be some movements he hates on an unconscious level, some techniques he despises—and that will turn his unlimited abilities into limited ones.
He really is incredible.
Time slipped away as the attacks continued, and before anyone realized it, offence and defense had changed hands. The only one in the audience who wasn’t enthralled was Alice, whose head was presently a mess of dancing question marks.
Is that really my brother…? she thought.
Everything she had ever known to be true told her otherwise, but she could not deny what was currently unfolding before her. She had terrible butterflies in her stomach. Eventually, they rose, slowly burning a furious hole deep in her chest as she reckoned with the actual truth:
He lied to me.
She was angry at the betrayal. In that moment, she likely gave no thought to the cruel punishments that she had inflicted upon her brother over the years. All she felt was indignant rage flaring up inside of her.
The next emotion that filled Alice’s heart was frustration. Luke was smiling and seemed to be having so much fun while fighting the older brother that Alice had always viewed with such disdain. She feared that she could never satisfy Luke if she remained as she was, and that fact filled her with regret and frustration.
I want to become stronger than I am now, Alice thought, and she truly meant it.
I want Luke to look at me.
Alice was incredibly talented in her own right and, in the original work, was likely never meant to have such a thirst for power.
But Luke had made an effort.
That one action would come to warp the story in every single aspect. The battle had been underway for over a thousand strikes and had appeared as if it might continue forever, when it suddenly came to an all-too-easy end—the inevitable one. Yolande’s sword was knocked from his hand, flying through the air to lodge itself in the ground some distance away.
“This means I win, eh?”
Yolande paused. “Yes. I give up.”
There was a moment of silence, then an outpouring of cheers and applause.
“Whoa!”
“That was amazing!”
“Did you see when…?”
The students chattered excitedly, and the acclaim was universal and unreserved.
Just as planned, Yolande thought to himself.
Yolande had, in fact, also been present at Luke’s fight against Abel. He saw Luke’s true strength in that moment and had known from the outset of their duel that he had no chance of beating him. He hadn’t expected Luke to hold back, of course, but everything else had been largely as Yolande expected. But then why did he challenge Luke in the first place, you might ask?
For Luke’s own sake? So that the students could learn?
No, it was all to fulfill his own desires.
I’m supposed to be an instructor, yet I provoked Luke into a fight and lost. To add insult to injury, Alice saw the whole thing…
“Ah…oh m-my, how p-pathetic I am,” Yolande began to pant, overwhelmed.
In fact, it was all for the purpose of exposing his shame to Alice. Intense emotions raged within Yolande’s heart. He could no longer even stay on his feet and sank to his knees.
“A-are you okay?! Should I call a priest, Instructor Yolande?!”
“I-I’m fine… Mm…I’m j-just a bit tired…”
Then he met Alice’s eyes. They were drenched in the worst sort of disgust; a look she reserved for those she did not consider human. It was as if she were looking at a piece of filth.
Yolande’s brain short-circuited, and his consciousness was easy prey for the wicked and raging emotions within him.
“Huh? Instructor?! Everyone, come quickly! Instructor Yolande has passed out!”